


A Plant of Slow Growth

by Jadesfire



Series: A Plant of Slow Growth [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Gen, I have a lot of Percy&Keyleth feels, Percy and Keyleth friendship fic, all the hugging, but mostly friendship fic, crladiesweek, pre-Vax/Keyleth, pre-Vex/Percy sort of, something rotten in the state of whitestone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10735800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadesfire/pseuds/Jadesfire
Summary: When dragons attack Emon, Keyleth turns to an old friend for help. But while Percy is willing to give them a place to stay, Keyleth is sure that there's more going on in Whitestone than he's telling them.orThe AU where Percy and Keyleth have been friends since childhood, which changes everything and nothing.





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Inspired by [this picture](http://applecakeart.tumblr.com/post/153037405430/give-me-childhood-friends-au-or-give-me-death-i) by Applecake, who demanded a Percy & Keyleth childhood-friends-AU. I...may have gotten carried away.
> 
> 2\. Hugest of huge thanks to Blackglass for encouragement, beta'ing and introducing me to Critical Role in the first place. This story would be much the poorer and under-hyphenated without her.

**__**

**_I am not of that feather to shake off  
My friend when he must need me._ ** _  
William Shakespeare, Timon of Athens_

**Two**

Angharad, nurse to various branches of the de Rolo family for nearly seventeen years, watches her latest charge like a hawk. She is aware of the other children within the creche, playing with building blocks and soft, feathered toys, gabbling away to each other in half-words. Percival is standing quite still, staring up at the top of the high fence that keeps the toddlers from the bigger children and (more importantly) the door, in a way that makes Angharad exceedingly nervous.

Lady Johanna thinks she's exaggerating, and Lord Frederick approves of his adventurous son. Neither will agree to move the nursery to a lower floor or a more secure room. They're not the ones who had to extricate their two-year-old from a fort built of washboards in the laundry. Or retrieve him from the top of the watchtower. Or from that incident with the crossbow.

Most of the Air Ashari and some from the other tribes have come for Winter's Crest this year, and there's talk of making the teleportation circle a permanent feature. Lord Frederick and Headmaster Korren have been friends for years, and no doubt whatever they're discussing will be good for both the Ashari and Whitestone. Certainly the crops have been excellent for the last five years, and the winters easier to bear.

When one of the Ashari places a hand on her shoulder and offers to relieve her, she shakes her head, not looking over even though she knows it seems rude.

"Trust me, you can't take your eyes off him for a moment."

One of the Ashari children has toddled over to Percival, a redheaded elven-looking girl who seems willowy against Percival's still-chubby form. She has a building block in each hand and, after some deliberation, offers the green one to Percival. He takes it from her gently, definitely not snatching, looks from it to her and back again, and smiles. The girl smiles back and reaches out to to pat him on the shoulder.

"He seems to be playing very nicely," the Ashari says.

"Oh yes. He's very well-behaved with other children. Or at least, those he's not related to."

"Then why-"

Percival reaches up with his free hand and puts it over the girl's for a moment. Then he releases her, turns to the fence and, with a two-handed grip and look of calculation, throws the block. It catches what must have been the tipping point, and the whole section of fence on the far side of the creche tumbles over. Goal achieved, Percival starts towards freedom, then hesitates and takes the girl's hand again, looking at her questioningly.

Beside her, Angharad hears a slightly strangled sound of surprise from the Ashari. "Oh."

There are already people rushing over to pick up the fence, while most of the children are now wailing in alarm. When it becomes clear their escape path is blocked, the girl starts pulling Percival back towards the toys instead. The noise has attracted enough attention that Lady Johanna leans around the door to see what's going on. Angharad covers her face with her hands as the Ashari pats her awkwardly on the shoulder.

"I'll have someone come and relieve you in an hour so you can get some rest. Don't worry, we'll keep our eyes on him."

Inside the now-being-rebuilt-creche, Percival has become distracted by the rest of the building blocks, and seems to be trying to show the red-headed girl how to build a better tower. On the plus side, Angharad decides, as she sinks gratefully into the nearest chair, at least he didn't throw the brick at anyone else. The bump on Julius' head has only just gone down.

~

The morning after the dragon attacks, everything seemed eerily quiet and too full at the same time. Keyleth wandered the halls of the half-destroyed Keep, listening to people whisper softly to each other, every voice holding so much fear and uncertainty that it felt like it was bleeding into her skin. Pike had set up a makeshift hospital in the temple, while Grog was sulking over that stupid skull they'd found at General Krieg's, and that everyone was still puzzled by. Most of the staff looked terrified, when they weren't trying to serve not enough food to too many people. Even normally unflappable Jarett looked like he wanted to be a long way from here, but where could anyone go?

Stopping at a window, Keyleth looked over into the Cloudtop district, where columns of smoke were rising into the dawn sky. It felt impossible that the stone under her hand was still solid when the whole world had tilted sideways. 

And because it was the worse possible moment, naturally that was when Grog decided to push the matter of the skull, with Scanlan trying to reason between him and Vax, Vex ending up holding the damn thing and Pike trying to calm things down. Not that Keyleth didn't understand Grog's frustration. For two years they'd been travelling and fighting, from the Astral Plane and the Underdark to Vasselheim and Pyrah. There had been trouble with the Council, that strange visit from Zahra's cousin, Tiberius deciding he needed to go home, and the whole business with General Krieg which had taken more of their time, and done more damage to their reputations, than they could really afford. All the time, they'd been moving forwards, never stopping, never thinking further than the next adventure.

But this was too big for them. They couldn't take responsibility for the whole of Tal'Dorei. They'd only agreed to be on the Council of Emon to help Uriel and the city that had adopted them and which now felt like their prison. Keyleth was sure that the others were feeling as helpless as she was, trapped inside their keep like rats. So she didn't really blame Vax and Grog for the argument, and under the circumstances she didn't even blame them for coming to blows. Except this time, it wasn't a playful spar in the courtyard, and Grog didn't look like he was going to be giving up the subject any time soon.

Keyleth was actually looking at the doorway when Allura and Drake arrived, and her relief at seeing them made her sag into a chair. When Allura asked if everything was alright, there was an awkward silence, both Grog and Vax shifting a little, and Keyleth had to resist the urge to laugh, because once she started, she didn't know if she'd be able to stop again.

It took nearly half an hour to get the immediate problems straightened out. Allura and Drake left for Westruun, Vex made the wretched skull disappear, and Keyleth and Pike scryed on as many places as they could. Seeing Pyrah made her head spin again, and more than anything, Keyleth wanted to take herself to Zephra, to speak to her father, to have his advice. Had anyone from the Air Ashari been at Pyrah when it was destroyed? Did they even know it had happened? It was almost too much to take in, so instead of acknowledging the panic that threatened to choke her, she took a deep breath and cast the next scrying spell.

All that really established was that nowhere on the continent was safe, so much so that the Elves had made a run for the Feywild. With that weighing on them, they all sat back down around the table, Laina and Jarrett brought them drinks, and everyone became very interested in the bottoms of their cups for a while. Grog was still looking a little disgruntled and Vax, sitting next to Keyleth, was nursing an impressive black eye. Almost without thinking, she reached out and touched his face, muttering the words of a healing spell, and then flushed when she realised everyone was looking at them.

Vex cleared her throat. "We can't stay here," she said, leaning hard on her elbows on the table. "And the refugees certainly can't." She looked over to where Jarett was leaning against the far wall. "What about Marquet? Is there somewhere in Ank'harel that would take them in?"

He scratched at his jawline, but Keyleth knew the answer before he even opened his mouth. "I mean, maybe? But I'm not exactly in favour there, so it wouldn't be top of my list."

"There's Kraghammer," Pike suggested.

"Not terribly welcoming as a place, and not necessarily safer than here." Scanlan shook his head. "What about Vasselheim?"

"It's such a long way," Vex said. "And it's not exactly welcoming to refugees either, I don't think."

Scanlan shrugged. "Well, I can't think of anywhere on this continent that they could go and be safe. Pyrah is half-destroyed, any of the Ashari encampments could be next, and we know Draconia is probably going to be under attack soon. Unless we want to shift them to a different plane, I'm out of ideas."

Something Scanlan said made Keyleth's brain grind to a halt, and it took her a moment to realise that everyone was looking at her. "What?"

Vax nudged her. "Vex asked if your people could shift everyone into a different plane."

"Yes. Probably. Perhaps. But they're not safe places to be. Creatures of this world aren't meant to exist there." She pursed her lips, playing with the charm on the end of her necklace. "It could be done, I think, but I don't think it's a good idea."

"And you have a better one." Vax was still looking at her closely and it hadn't been a question.

Slowly, Keyleth nodded, the words feeling right as she said them. "I think I might." She waved a hand in Scanlan's direction. "What you said about there not being anywhere on this continent. I have an old friend here in Tal'Dorei who might be able to help. I haven't seen him since leaving for my Aramenté, but he's someone who'd have the resources to support these refugees, and maybe more."

"You've got a rich, powerful friend and you're only mentioning him now. What, was it a bad break up?" Scanlan asked, earning himself a kick on the ankle from Pike.

Keyleth smiled, shaking her head. "No, nothing like that. He just lives a long way away, and a little off the beaten track."

"But you trust him?" Vex was asking, and Keyleth nodded without hesitation.

"Definitely," she said. "I've known him my whole life."

~

Keyleth had visited Whitestone by teleportation circle lots of times, and once or twice she'd travelled by road or river. This wasn't even the first time she'd arrived via a tree, when her father had brought them. Even so, this was different. Not the tree part, although she was still fairly new at it, but coming into the town rather than the castle. She didn't know it nearly as well, and she looked around, trying to get her bearings as her feet immediately sank into a few inches of snow. Shivering, she moved out of the way, letting the others tumble out of the Sun Tree behind her. The tree's branches were empty of leaves, but she could see some shreds of coloured fabric still caught in them, presumably left over from Winter's Crest last week.

The others were looking around with their usual interest, which was to say that the twins looked suspicious, Grog seemed unimpressed and Scanlan looked like he was appraising the place for purchase. Not for the first time since she'd suggested it, Keyleth had to wonder exactly how well - or badly - this could go.

Vox Machina had formed a protective perimeter around the refugees who'd managed to stumble through with them, and Keyleth counted about twenty people, many of them sitting in the snow despite the chill. Crossing a continent in a few seconds took it out of you, and they'd deliberately chosen those most in need for this first trip. Pike would be waiting with the others, including Gilmore, tomorrow morning, and judging by the size of the group here already, Keyleth would only have to do the spell once more to get everyone through.

Hoping she didn't ruin the effect by falling over, Keyleth turned to the people now gathering around them and planted her staff more firmly in the ground. Vax had told her it looked authoritative, and it had the added bonus of helping her to stay on her feet.

"Please send someone to the castle to tell Lord de Rolo that Keyleth of the Air Ashari is here, with people in need of help." Her voice carried well in the crisp air, and she saw some of the smaller boys take off from the back of the crowd. Behind her, Scanlan snorted, and she heard Vex repeat _Lord de Rolo?_ in an undertone.

An older woman came forwards, and Keyleth recognised her as one of the castle staff, although she didn't know her name. She tried not to wince when the woman bobbed a curtsey, intensely glad that she couldn't see her friends' faces.

"Please, your highness, they don't look so good." She gestured to the group who were more suitably dressed for the mild weather of Emon. "We should be getting them inside, really, at least to sit down."

"Yes, that would be good, thank you," Keyleth said, wishing she'd thought of that. "And maybe some warm drinks?"

It seemed that, at some point, it had all rather slipped out of Keyleth's charge. The older lady - Genine - got the nearest tavern opened up, and organised a troop of people with coats and blankets and warm drinks for the refugees. There were even some toys to keep the children occupied, while Vox Machina were offered spiced wine and - to Grog's delight - drinks from a large ale barrel. It felt like Winter's Crest all over again, and Genine reassured Keyleth that everyone still had too much left over from last week. Keyleth had the feeling that if they had to wait much longer, everyone would be invited elsewhere for dinner and she'd never get them all together again.

As though hearing her, there was a shout from outside and Keyleth peered out of the door to see the people parting to let through a troop of guards, impressively decked out with some very strange-looking weaponry. In the middle of them, Keyleth caught sight of a familiar shock of white hair, and stepped outside towards them without thinking, waving her arm in a mixture of relief and excitement.

"Percy!"

There was ice under the snow, and she started to slip before she'd taken three steps, but Percy was there, grabbing her before she could fall and pulling her into a quick hug before holding her at arm's length and looking her up and down.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, and Keyleth had to laugh.

"Nice to see you too."

There was something close to a smile on his face, but his eyes were serious. "It's always good to see you, you know that. But you don't normally arrive in such a dramatic fashion." He gestured over to what, Keyleth had to admit, looked like a second Winter's Crest in full swing. "And you don't normally co-opt my townspeople into working for you."

Gesturing for the soldiers to wait, he led her back inside, arm around her waist to stop her slipping. He seemed little altered from when she'd last seen him, the same observant eyes and guarded expression. Even Keyleth had to admit that Vox Machina were something of a motley group, and she didn't doubt that Percy would have assessed the threat they presented as soon as he stepped inside. 

She also knew that he would have taken in the state of the refugees, their clothing which was obviously unsuited to the weather, and their various injuries. His frown softened a little as two of the older children threw themselves into a noisy wrestling match, which was quickly hushed by a nearby adult. 

Vex took a step towards them, and Percy's attention shifted to her, his eyes guarded behind his glasses. In the dim light of the tavern, Keyleth couldn't quite read his expression, but something in it made Vex's greeting stutter to a halt. 

"These are my friends," Keyleth said, stepping away from Percy so she could see him properly. "And it's a long story, but we're going to need your help."

There was a moment when Keyleth thought he was going to refuse, that two years was too long to be away, that she should have come alone and asked him first. He looked them over with more calculation than seemed right for a group of refugees or for the friend she'd left behind two years ago. She had the distinct impression that she'd put her foot in it somehow, which for less than five minutes was a record, even for her.

Finally, to Keyleth's relief, Percy nodded, and gestured for Genine to come over. "Then you shall have it," he said, and Keyleth let herself breathe again.


	2. Trust

__

_**Confidence is the only bond of friendship.**  
Publilius Syrus Maxim_

**Five**

It will take the grown-ups hours to find them. With all the children running around the castle - at least three branches of the de Rolo family, the local nobility, the Air and Earth Ashari - and with the general hubbub of Winter's Crest preparations, it is almost impossible to spot the two five-year-olds that aren't there.

Where they are is up in what Percy calls the 'baby nursery', where Oliver and Whitney sleep. Oliver is downstairs with his nursemaid, while Whitney's nurse is along the hall, within earshot but getting a much-needed respite from having thirty children under the age of ten in the castle.

Keyleth opens the door, because Percy is still a head too short to reach the handle. They pile cushions from the settee in front of Whitney's crib, making themselves comfortable and sharing the sweets that they sneaked out of the kitchen. Percy could probably just have asked for them, but sneaking is more fun.

There aren't that many babies with the Air Ashari at the moment, and Keyleth thinks Whitney is cute. She waves her tiny fists as she sleeps, and when she wrinkles her nose, she looks more than a little like Percy.

"We all look like me," Percy says. "Or, I look like them. My brothers and sisters. You'll always know who we are."

"You're de Rolos," Keyleth says. She likes the sound of it, and of Percy's name which she can nearly say by heart, although she gets a bit muddled in the middle. "You're special."

"Everyone's special," Percy says, licking the sugar from his fingers. "That's what mama says. Everyone's special, so we have to make sure we look after them. That's our job." He sighs a little, looking over at Whitney, who has started to make little whimpering noises. Climbing out of their nest of cushions, Percy goes over and slips his hand through the bars, finding a scrap of cloth and pushing it into her hand. It seems to comfort her, and Whitney pulls it to her face with a contented sigh.

"We have to look after people," Keyleth says. "Even when they're babies."

"Especially when they're babies. But we're always going to look after each other anyway. Even when we're grown-up and big." Percy strokes a hand over Whitney's head, then comes back to join Keyleth, clambering in and settling down beside her. "And I'm going to look after you too," he declares, holding out his hand.

"Me too." Keyleth takes it, and they shake on it, fingers sticky with damp sugar.

After he lets go, Percy glances down, then looks up at Keyleth accusingly. "You ate the last sweet!"

He forgives her, though. And later, when they're both so tired they can hardly sit up, Keyleth lets him doze with his head in her lap, her hands stroking through his hair. It makes it a little sticky, but she's sure he'll forgive her for that too.

~

Percy had always been sure of himself, but Keyleth couldn't remember him being quite so commanding before. At some point in the last two years, he seemed to have realised that he was Lord de Rolo, and while he didn't have his father's imperious stare, it was obvious whom everyone looked to for decisions.

Keyleth got as far as, _"Half Tal'Dorei has been destroyed by dragons and these are the only people we could get out of Emon,"_ when Percy stopped her with a nod.

"That's all I need for now," he said, waving Genine over. "Let's get these people housed properly. They're really not dressed for snow."

Everything seemed to move too quickly after that, with Percy and the guards taking charge, and Vox Machina shooed out of the way to let them work. Vex and Vax both gave Keyleth questioning looks, and she shrugged helplessly. They'd come here because she'd been sure Percy would help them, but she'd forgotten just how easily de Rolos could take charge when they put their minds to it.

Genine was delegated to find homes and clothing for the refugees, with plenty of Whitestone residents offering room and board.

"Please keep track of everything," Percy said, one hand on Genine's shoulder. "Anything you buy for them, have the merchants send the bill to the castle. This is the city's responsibility, and I won't have you paying for this out of your own pockets."

"Of course, my Lord." Genine didn't curtsey to him, Keyleth noticed with slight annoyance. "I've already sent to Keeper Yennen for any healers they can spare. There are plenty here who need them." She hesitated then added more softly, "And I'll make sure they know about Whitestone rules."

Something passed between them that Keyleth couldn't read, because Percy smiled at that. "Thank you." He gripped her hand then turned to Keyleth. "You and your friends had better come up to the castle. I think we have a lot of talking to do." He made a sweeping gesture that took in all of them, and ended with him offering Keyleth his hand. "I am Lord Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the Third, and you're very welcome here in Whitestone. Hopefully we'll be properly introduced later, but for now, let's find you somewhere to stay. Shall we?"

Hoping she looked more confident than she felt, Keyleth put her hand in his, and let him steady her as they climbed back up the steep street towards the castle. His boots were much more suited to the snow than hers, so she ended up with her arm threaded through his for support, constantly aware of four pairs of eyes boring a hole in her back.

"What did she mean, about making sure they knew about Whitestone rules?" she asked, feeling Percy's arm tighten under hers for a moment.

"It's nothing bad," he said quickly, almost defensive. "We've just been trying to keep a lower profile amongst the local powers in recent years, trying to avoid being a target again." He smiled thinly when she put her hand into his, squeezing it gently. "We still aren't entirely sure why we were a target in the first place or where they went afterwards. For now, the fewer outsiders who know that Whitestone survived and flourishes, the safer my people will be."

Not me, she noticed. _My people_. Whitestone was small, barely more than a dot on the map of Tal'Dorei, and with nothing like the great resources of Emon or Westruun. But from the way he said 'my people', you'd think they were a race of great heroes of old, waiting in their high stronghold for their great destiny to unfold.

They were nearly at the castle gates, which were already open for them, and she looked back to check that the others were keeping up. Vex and Vax were holding onto each other for balance on the slippery road, while Scanlan was perched on Grog's shoulder, looking not where they were going, but back at Whitestone. Keyleth followed his gaze, down to the snow-topped roofs of the town below. The houses were huddled into the valley, hunkered down against the wilderness of the Alabaster Sierras beyond. With the snow muffling all sounds of life, Whitestone looked very much like an illustration in a book of legendary tales. Perhaps, she thought, as Percy steered her around a snowbank and into the castle courtyard, that was what he saw when he looked at this place. She couldn't really blame him for a little fanciful thinking.

~

Percy waved off her attempts to start to explain things until they were all settled into the castle, with rooms and proper winter clothing for everyone. They gathered a little later by a roaring fire in a cosy room that Keyleth thought might have been a music room once, and she finally had a chance to introduce everyone properly.

"Do you need to be called all those names at once?" Grog asked, cradling a goblet that Keyleth was fairly sure had once been a hunting trophy of some kind.

"Not every time. Percival will be just fine." Percy set his own glass down on a side table and steepled his fingers, looking around the group. "It's going to make a lot more sense if you start at the beginning rather than tell me piecemeal," he said. "Start from the morning of the day the dragons attacked."

And, oh. That had only been a few days ago. That didn't seem possible. Keyleth's sense of time had become so distorted by so many things happening at once. To tell the whole story, they had to go back a little further than that, to the trouble with Kreig that had dogged them for nearly a month before the final confrontation. It was mostly Vex and Scanlan who did the talking, with Keyleth adding details that she knew Percy would want to hear. Vax skulked at the back of the group behind Grog as normal, and she was aware of his eyes on her, observant and still.

In less time than she'd expected, the whole story had been poured out, with Percy listening in careful silence. When Keyleth looked over, he was leaning back in his chair, eyes half-closed and face shadowed. Maybe he sensed, as she did, that for all of them, telling the story was almost as hard as living through it again, pressing on bruises that were still fresh. When Vex described their fight with the looters, Keyleth had to put her drink down, or risk spilling it.

The story ended, of course, with Keyleth's newly acquired ability to bring them to Whitestone through the Sun Tree, and although it was something Percy had seen before, he seemed gratifyingly impressed. The conversation wandered a little after that, into details of which dragon was which, and just how Thordak might have escaped the Fire Plane. For all that she had already seen it herself, Keyleth found herself lifting and draining her cup when Vex spoke of the destruction of Pyrah, and she didn't dare look at Percy for fear any sympathy she saw there would break her composure.

Eventually, it was Scanlan, of course, who asked the question they must all have been thinking.

"I'm sure it's very nice of you to take in all those people," he said, "and the wine really is very good." He lifted his glass in a gesture of salute and appreciation. "But if you don't mind my asking, why exactly are you doing this? I hadn't even heard of Whitestone before Keyleth mentioned it, so it's not like you normally mingle with the rest of Tal'Dorei. What's in it for you?"

Percy didn't answer immediately, his face oddly blank. The others might have interpreted it as coldness - Vex certainly was regarding him with more than a hint of suspicion - but Keyleth was used to the long pauses. If words were worth saying, they were worth getting right, and Percy would want to make sure he said exactly what he meant, no more and no less. When the silence stretched for a few seconds too long, Keyleth started to put her cup down, ready to reach out and remind him that they needed an answer. She'd no sooner set it on the table than Percy looked up at her, his expression softer than she'd seen it since they'd arrived.

"There's nothing in it for me, as far as I know," he said. "But we have also been helped greatly by those who had no obligation to do so, and we will always be grateful for that."

Keyleth flushed under the sudden attention from everyone in the room, and was grateful when Scanlan asked, "We?"

"My people." Turning away from her, Percy held Keyleth's gaze for a second longer, then turned and gave Scanlan his full attention. "Whitestone came under attack some years ago. We would never have survived if it hadn't been for the help of the Ashari, but we can't expect them to come to our rescue every time. So since then, everyone has been under strict instructions not to mention where they come from when they're trading. Or if they have to, not to give the location of the city away. Apparently it's working."

"Makes you sound very secretive." It was the first thing Vax had said, and in the dimly lit room, it seemed to take Percy a moment to work out where the words had come from.

"There are some lessons you only want to learn once," he said. Looking around at the other's puzzled faces, Keyleth wondered how she could be the only one to hear the undertone in his voice, an anger that was banked down but still burning. "What matters is that Whitestone is in a position to help. We're well-hidden, well-resourced and well-defended. If needs be, we could even take in refugees from other cities, at least until a way can be found to unseat the dragons."

"There could be hundreds of them," Vex said. "Just how prosperous is this city of yours?"

"We have enough to share." Percy gestured at the room around them. "Most of the castle is closed up these days, but if we opened up the west and south wings and turned them into dormitories, we might be able to house a few hundred just up here. It would be tight, but we could do it. And if it came to it, King Bertrand in Wildmount would probably be willing to take refugees as well."

There was an awkward silence that had him immediately turning to Keyleth with a questioning look.

"One of the dragons was headed east," she said. "Towards Draconia. That's-"

"I know where it is," Percy said, running a hand over his face. "I should send to Bertrand, just in case." He took a deep breath. "There's going to be a lot to do."

"For now, can we tell our allies that they can come here?" Vex asked, adding to the others, "Allura needs to know where to find us. And anyone from Vasselheim who wants to come and help. We need a war council."

Keyleth couldn't help but see the flicker of doubt on Percy's face at Vex's words. The hesitation. She knew he wanted to help, and she also knew how much it would cost him, not just materially, to open Whitestone up again. Refugees were one thing. Powerful magic users setting up here was something else entirely. 

The silence went on a little too long again, and her doubt was growing. There was something hard in his eyes when he glanced at her this time, a stoniness that didn't seem right, and a knot of worry started to form in the pit of Keyleth's stomach. For a horrible second, she was sure he was going to say he had done enough, that he couldn't go any further than he already had. And then they really would have nowhere else to go.

Thinking quickly, she reached out, crafting a tiny purple flower that she held out to him, smiling just a little. "They're our friends, Percy. You're going to have to trust us."

A long second passed, in which she wondered if he was going to be able to do it. She didn't realise she'd been holding her breath until he blinked, and some of the coldness melted out of his expression, leaving a familiar half-smile in its place. It had been like the dropping of a mask, and she kept watching him as he leaned out to take the flower from her fingers. 

"I do trust you," he said, and she doubted the others had missed that he was only looking at her when he said it.


	3. Conversation

**__** __

_**The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.**  
Dorothy Nevill_

****

**Ten**

It's nice coming to Whitestone in the summer for a change. The sun is warm on Keyleth's back as she and Percy climb up the rocks behind the castle. Below them, Ludwig's birthday party is in full swing, and Keyleth waves back down to her father when they reach the top.

They sit on the edge for a while, feet dangling over what feels like a great drop.

"It's not as high as Zephra," Keyleth says, and Percy nods. "You have to be really careful in the windy season."

"It's always the windy season in Zephra," Percy says. "At least, it's always windier than here."

"It's always warmer than here as well." With the surrounding mountains covered in snow even in the sunshine, Keyleth always feels chilly in Whitestone.

When Percy doesn't reply, she looks over to see him fishing a large book out the bag he's carried up here.

"I want to check something," he says, carefully opening it on his lap, although it's large enough that the corner pokes her in the knee. "It's a book about the Alabaster Sierras, but I think they've got the drawing wrong."

She listens to him mutter to himself for a while, looking from the book in his lap to the mountains in the distance and back again. It's not that she minds, really, but she is a little bored, and kicking her heels on the rock to see if she can chip away some pebbles is only fun for about five minutes.

It's when she spots the tiny plant clinging to a split in the rock that she remembers what she was going to tell Percy.

"I have something to show you," she says, sighing when he only manages a "hmmmm?" in reply.

Concentrating hard, she reaches out her hand, thinking about the flowers that grow determinedly in the dry soil of Zephra. The one that forms in the middle of her palm isn't quite one of those. One of the four petals is considerably smaller than the others, and it's more of a washed out pink than the bright red she'd hoped for, but when she turns to show Percy, he's already staring at her, mouth gaping.

"Keyleth," he says, his voice not more than a whisper. "You can do magic? Already?"

She's suddenly embarrassed, and is about to let the flower fall down the rock edge when Percy grabs her wrist, taking the flower and holding it up close to his face.

"I'm still learning," she says. "I can't make any more of those today."

"It's still amazing," Percy says. "Hardly anyone here can do this sort of magic." Holding the flower between finger and thumb, he flicks through his book until he reaches the end where there are some blank sheets. Carefully, he lays the flower down, holding it in place as he closes the book, trapping it between the pages. Only then does he look up at her, a little guiltily. "I hope it's okay to keep it," he says, and Keyleth nods.

"It's fine. One day, I'll be able to make lots and lots of them."

"You're going to be brilliant," Percy says, and while Keyleth isn't sure she believes him, it's nice to hear him say it just the same.

~

Their Keep had seemed strange with so many people in it, and Whitestone Castle felt strange without them. Of course, Keyleth had mostly visited at times when the whole place had been bursting at the seams with visitors, but even on her quieter visits, there had been a life to the place. While the part of the castle where their rooms were felt comfortable enough, Keyleth found she was surprised at the emptiness everywhere else. In Percy's parents' time, there had been a busy schedule of visitors from most of the continent and beyond. While she could understand Percy not wanting to plunge back into that social world all at once, it seemed strange that the castle was still empty of visitors. The knot she'd felt in the pit of her stomach earlier in the evening started to tighten again, and it wasn't just the cold making her shiver.

It was only when she reached the doors to the South Wing, where the family quarters had been, that she remembered Percy saying it was shut up at the moment. She hadn't realised he'd meant it it literally, and that the doors would be firmly locked and bolted. 

"I can probably get them open if you really want to see."

Startled, Keyleth turned to see Vax slink out the shadows behind her. He'd pulled a heavier cloak on over his armour, and the deep grey almost perfectly matched the stone walls. 

"You're not going to want to give that back, are you?" Keyleth asked, gesturing to the cloak.

"I think your friend can probably spare it, don't you?" Still walking silently, Vax passed her, going up to examine the door. "So, are we going exploring?"

"Not tonight." Not ever, really, although she didn't really want to have a conversation about why with anyone until she'd had a chance to speak to Percy. He'd been so careful, so guarded earlier that she didn't want to be the one to break that confidence. Some stories weren't hers to tell. "I've been in there anyway."

"Of course. Did you visit a lot?" Vax moved his attention along to the walls, running his fingers lightly along the stones.

"Yes. Or they'd come to Zephra. And we'd write in between, of course."

"Of course." 

While he kept his back to her, there was something odd in Vax's tone that made Keyleth glare at the back of his head.

"What was that?"

"What?"

_"Of course?"_ She kept on glaring when he turned to her, his expression carefully neutral. "Am I not allowed to have friends outside Vox Machina?"

"Of course." He snapped his mouth shut, shaking his head. "Sorry, I mean. Sorry." Some of the tension went out of him, and he took a step towards her. "I mean that maybe I'm a little jealous. Which I have no right to be."

"Oh." Things had been awkward between them for weeks now, and Keyleth supposed something like this was inevitable. Vax had made it more than clear how he felt about her, while she- 

Hadn't. 

There were days when she barely knew how she felt about herself, let alone another person, and with everything that had gone on, and with everything so scrambled and messy, she hadn't given it much of a thought. But maybe she should have done, because with him watching her patiently, she actually felt a little guilty. 

"I'm jealous of how well he knows you," Vax said, when she didn't reply properly. "The two of you seem so close."

"Yes, we are. We always have been. Or we always were, I suppose." She closed the short distance between them, putting a hand on his arm. "We're not as close as you and Vex, and it's been a few years since I've seen him, but yes, we're close. Zephra is a small place, and there weren't many people my age." Vax was listening so attentively that it was easier to keep going. "Even if there had been, none of them really understood what I was going through. Percy did."

"Because he was going to inherit this place?"

_Not my story_ , Keyleth told herself again, while knowing that Vax would spot her lying, especially when they were standing this close.

"Sort of. Not exactly. But yes, something like that. It's complicated." She had to tell him something, and Keyleth promised herself she'd only go as far as she felt comfortable. "Percy wasn't first in line, but he was close enough that he understood some of what I was going through. He was going to come with me on my Aramenté. I think you all would have liked him." 

"I'm sure we would have, if you do," Vax murmured, his attention wandering a little. "I'm not too keen on his castle, though. It's a bit weird, isn't it? One person living up here all by himself."

"He has a sister, but she hasn't lived here for a while. I can't imagine Percy being anywhere else, not after-" She broke off, shaking her head. "It's a long story. And there is a good reason. But I think you should ask Percy about it. Get to know him a little." She didn't add that she needed to do something like that herself, to re-learn the friend she had left behind, and who had been replaced with someone distant and cool.

Vax smiled a little and squeezed her hands. "If he's important to you, then he's important to me. To all of us. I hope we will get to know him. Now, are you going to tell me what's really worrying you? I can see it in your face."

When Keyleth looked away, she had a flash of Percy's expression in the firelight. The cold mask that it had seemed to take him so much effort to put aside.

"He's never been one for big displays of emotion," she said. "But he's changed since I've been away, become more withdrawn, hesitant, even, which doesn't seem like him. I must have changed as well, I suppose, but it doesn't feel like he's quite the person I know, somehow. Maybe I just don't like that."

"We've all been changed by the last week, never mind the last few years," Vax said, tugging on her hands and pulling her gaze back to him. "He seemed fine to me. I mean," he corrected himself, "he's a bit of an arrogant bastard, but. Well." He rolled his eyes as though taking in the grand hallway and the whole castle beyond. "I guess that comes with the territory."

Except while Percy had always been arrogant about his own abilities, he'd never seemed as hard as he had earlier on. If she'd had something more definite to go on, she would have said something, but for now, it was just a feeling. She shrugged. "I suppose so. That's probably it." 

"Which means you think it isn't." Vax frowned at her. "What do you want to do? It was your call to come here. If you think there's something wrong with your friend, we need to deal with it. There are more people at risk here than just us."

She wanted to deny everything and brush it off, but one of the reasons Vox Machina were still alive was that they trusted their instincts, and Keyleth's were telling her that this was more than just a miscommunication. 

"I don't know what it is," she said. "Percy's been through a lot, more than most. And as you said, he's been alone up here, and it's been years now. Maybe he's just turned into something of a hermit."

"I'm not sure I'm really the person to try and be sociable with him just like that," Vax said, with a hint of a crooked grin, "but I'll speak to the others. We'll see what we can do."

Keyleth's worries had felt like a knot at the back of her neck, one that slowly unwound as she listened to Vax. Never mind Percy, she needed to remember that _she_ wasn't alone in this, and that Percy wasn't actually her responsibility. Not any more. Releasing Vax's hands, she pulled him into a hug, feeling him stiffen in surprise, then cautiously put his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm glad you're here," she said, finding that she meant it. 

A little awkwardly, Vax patted her back. "Me too," he said. 

She held onto him for a moment longer, and then straightened up, stepping away a little. "I should go and find Percy. I think I should talk to him properly before anyone else does."

"Warn him about your reprehensible friends?" Vax was a little flushed, but he smiled at her. 

"Remind him to lock up the silver and any attractive servants."

"Ask him to order some extra barrels from the nearest tavern." 

They shared a grin, and as Keyleth turned so that they could head back down to their quarters, she found that she didn't really mind when Vax took her hand in his.

~

Rather than attempt any kind of formal meal with a group of strangers who were obviously exhausted, Percy had shown Vox Machina to the kitchens earlier, and told the staff to give them whatever they wanted, if it was available. Then he'd excused himself, saying he had a lot of letters to write, leaving them to organise their own dinner, probably to everyone's relief.

Keyleth left Vax at the kitchen door and flagged down the nearest servant for directions to wherever Percy had taken himself. The study she was sent to was on the first floor, and although the door was closed, there was faint light coming from underneath it.

When her knocking got no response, Keyleth pushed the door a little and peered inside.

"Hello?"

"What?" The question was terse, and she realised he hadn't actually looked up. When she said his name, he finally tore himself away from whatever he'd been working on, and his frown cleared. "Sorry." He waved her in and hooked a foot around the chair next to his to pull it out for her. "I'm not used to people coming to see me here."

"I can tell." Keyleth sat down very gingerly, trying not to disturb any of the papers on the massive table that filled the middle of the room. Around the walls were more papers, most of them diagrams of all kinds of things, from boats to wagon wheels. The room was dark, lit by a single lantern hanging from the centre of the ceiling, and there were long curtains on the far wall that she assumed covered a window.

Every scrap of paper, parchment or wall was covered in notes. Drawings, essays, calculations, diagrams; the things that Percy had always talked about, and that now seemed to have been called into reality, on paper at least. There wasn't an inch of panelling showing under everything stuck to the walls, and in some places it looked to be several layers deep. It was, Keyleth realised, rather like sitting inside Percy's brain.

Some of that must have shown on her face, because Percy huffed a laugh and looked around. "Yes, I keep busy," he said, gesturing to his work. "Running Whitestone is as much a matter of delegation to the Council as it is actually doing anything. I'm really just here to sign papers and look good in a fancy coat. It gives me time for other things."

Tearing her gaze away from a detailed map of the city that Keyleth suspected he must have measured out himself, she smiled back. "I'm glad. You certainly seem to be busy."

"I do what I can." He leaned back in his chair, examining her in the dim lamplight. "And what about you? How goes the Aramenté? I got your letter from Terra, which was a bit of a surprise. I thought we'd agreed that we didn't need to write." He wasn't quite accusing her, but she heard it in his voice anyway.

"We did, but I wanted to tell someone who'd understand. The whole thing was much more…" She trailed off, not quite able to find the right word, as usual, and the way Percy raised a questioning eyebrow at her didn't help. "More," she said eventually, and Percy snorted, shaking his head a little.

"That does sound like a good word for it. I'm sorry I couldn't be there." Although he'd been smiling, there was a seriousness to his voice that she recognised, and it was her turn to shake her head.

"Don't, please. It's fine. We've been through this already."

Pressing his lips together, Percy gave a curt nod and turned his attention to his pile of papers for a moment. His profile was sharper than Keyleth remembered, and there was a tightness to his shoulders, as though he was bracing himself for something bad to happen. He seemed to sense her looking at him, and turned back to her, while Keyleth did her best to be unembarrassed. She still didn't really know why he was making her so uneasy, and she wasn't going to back down at the first challenge.

Even so, she found herself giving him an awkward shrug, making him narrow his eyes a little.

"You didn't write after Pyrah," he said, and yes, this time, he was definitely needling her, even if she wasn't really sure why.

Keyleth blew out a long breath, trying not to rise to it. "I know. There just didn't seem to be time at the time, and then everything started to happen in Emon. I've barely had time to think, let alone write." She shook her head, unable to stop the images from rising up in her mind. "And now, seeing it as I did, after we were there so recently? I mean, it would be awful no matter what, but I don't think it would be so bad if it didn't feel so personal. I wish I could have written to you, told you what it was like before, so that I could remember it like that, not like this." She forced herself to stop babbling and tried to order her thoughts. "Am I making any sense?"

"Some." He shook his head, some of the tension easing a little. He'd always been able to hear her meaning rather than her words. "It's always worse when it's somewhere you know. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you." 

"And we should speak of it in better times, so that you can start to remember it that way again. You got through the Aramenté in one piece."

"I did. I had help, but I did." For demonstration, Keyleth held up her hands, pushing power into them and lighting them up with flickering flames. Gratifyingly, Percy whistled under his breath, leaning forwards to get a better look, then thinking better of it when the heat reached him. She turned her hands so he could see properly, enjoying his wide-eyed stare. Her friends were so used to magic-users that she forgot how few of them there were in Whitestone, and how rare this kind of power was here. It also felt good to use it, to remember what she had learned there, and that the power was hers to use. 

She also knew, in that moment, that her instincts were right. This was her Percy, still full of wonder and curiosity, not the distant Lordling she'd met earlier, who had to be persuaded to involve himself in affairs beyond his border. The look on his face was so familiar at last that the flames around her hands surged and flickered until she could get her relief under control.

After a moment, Percy sat back a little, shaking his head as he smiled at her. "I'd call that a successful trial."

Always self-conscious when he looked at her like that, Keyleth let the flames die again, not really surprised when Percy leaned forwards and grabbed her hand, turning it over between his.

"It was a gift from the Fire Ashari," she said. "Although I only found out what it was when we were fighting General Krieg."

"He was the blue dragon?"

"Yes, although that was something else we only found out later, and trying to prove it got us in an awful lot of trouble with Uriel."

"I can imagine it did." Percy settled back in his chair, folding his hands over his middle and returning to his air of detached interest, making Keyleth's stomach sink again. "It sounds…" He searched for the right word for a moment, coming up eventually with, "Intense."

"I suppose it has been. The world is a lot more complicated than it ever seemed from Zephra." She shrugged. "I'm learning. That was the idea, after all." Wanting to change the subject, she turned to the table, glancing over the heaps of notes. "And what about you? How is Whitestone? And Cassandra?"

"Fine. We're all fine." There was a tightness to the words that Keyleth couldn't miss. When she raised her eyebrow at him, Percy lifted a hand defensively. "I mean it. Cassandra is in Vasselheim, studying. She'll make Pelor a fine servant one day, I'm sure." He kept his tone light, and Keyleth wanted to press him about it, if only she could work out how.

"And what about all this?" she asked instead, gesturing around the room. "It looks like you've come a long way in the last few years."

He smiled a little at that. "I suppose I have. But then, I had a strong motivation for it." He gestured to the pictures all around them, the notes and diagrams. "It's really just taking what I've always done and moving it in a new direction. Turning these into reality, that's the hard part."

"I suppose it must be," Keyleth murmured, even as the hairs on the back of her neck slowly started to tingle. "Are they all weapons?"

"No, not at all." He gave her an odd look, somewhere between offense and suspicion. "I mean, I suppose a lot of them could be, if you wanted them to be. But no, they're not."

"But you have built weapons," Keyleth said. "Those things the guards were carrying."

Conceding the point, Percy nodded. "Yes, the guns. They're my work. I suppose part of me is still on the defensive, but with very little idea what I'm defensive against. Without knowing what they wanted or where they escaped to, I'm fighting blind. The guns take less training than a bow, and pack more of a hit in a smaller package. We're all as ready as we can be."

"My father would-"

"I know. But it was pure blind luck last time that more people didn't die because the Ashari happened to be here. What happens when they're not? Unless there are some Ice Ashari out there looking for a suitable place to live?"

It wasn't paranoia when strangers had, in fact, tried to kill you, Keyleth supposed. But even so.

"This looks like a lot more than just some simple defences," she said.

"When have you ever known me to do anything simply?" Percy was smiling, but as the fire and lamplight played across his face, Keyleth had the same sense as earlier, of too much shadow in his expression, a clouding of his eyes and face that made him seem like a stranger for a second.

Percy had always been fascinated by weapons, but the ones on the walls around her made her deeply uncomfortable. They felt unnatural somehow, giving her what was becoming a familiar sense of unease.

"It's all boring to anyone else, though," Percy said, snapping her back to the present. "Have you had anything to eat yet?" When she shook her head, he pushed himself out of his chair, and headed for the door. "I'll have someone bring us something then, and we can talk properly about happier things. Just for a few hours, I'll lock the door and we'll pretend none of this has happened. Your father was here last month, so I can bring you up to date with Zephra, and I want to hear all about Emon, the real Emon, how it was and will be again. It's supposed to be quite the city."

"It is," Keyleth said, trying to force herself into his determinedly cheerful mood. 

She clearly hadn't succeeded, because he turned back to her, his hand on the door handle. "It will be again," he said, his tone allowing no argument. "Cities like Emon are too important to just be allowed to die. I have some ideas that might help with that, but right now, all I want is some food and some time to catch up with my best friend. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Her resolution was a little more wobbly than his, but it must have been enough because he smiled and opened the door.

Keyleth watched him as he stepped out in the corridor, calling for a servant, and while his back was turned, she looked around the room again. It was strange, thinking of him up here all this time, planning and making so many things for an enemy he knew almost nothing about. Two years with only his own company, his grief and his thoughts. Maybe it wasn't surprising he seemed so different. Maybe she was the one who'd driven him down this path in the first place.

Some of the light from the torches in the hall spilled into the room, illuminating some of the drawings, and casting others into darkness. As she waited for him to return, Keyleth tried to tell herself that it was just her imagination playing tricks on her if some of the shadows in the corner seemed to deepen and pull away from the light.


	4. Counsel

_****_

_**Advice is judged by results, not by intentions.**  
Cicero_

****

**Fourteen**

Keyleth loves Percy's family, she really does. It's just that when they're all together, along with their friends, cousins and half of Whitestone, it's all a bit much for her. Everyone talks at once, loudly, and the hall fills with so much noise it makes her ears ring. It's easy enough to slip away, up to the balcony above the main courtyard, where she can still hear the revelry from below but it's at a more manageable volume.

It doesn't take long for Percy to join her, the two of them dangling their legs through the gaps in the balustrades. Below, in the Whitestone castle courtyard, things are only just getting started for a party that will go for most of the night.

"Your brother's having a good time." Keyleth leans forward so that she can peer around the stone pillar. Percy has his head tipped to one side, resting against the pillar to his left. The glasses that he's been wearing constantly since last summer make it hard for her to judge his expression now.

"Everyone's having a good time," he says, and smiles at her. "Except us, they'd probably say."

"I'm enjoying myself. Just quietly."

"I don't think Julius does anything quietly, especially not on his coming of age."

"It's so weird that you wait so long." Keyleth's own ceremony is just a few months away, and will be a much quieter, more serious affair. "It's not like humans live longer. I'm always surprised at how long you wait."

"Maybe it's to give parents enough time to save up for the party." Percy snorts something close to a laugh. "I think everyone from Tal'Dorei and Wildmount was invited. If his birthday was in the summer, it would have been an even bigger thing. Thank Pelor for snowdrifts." There is no real heat in his words, though. Julius and Percy aren't close, not the way Oliver and Whitney are close, but they get on well enough.

"And teleportation circles," Keyleth says. "You'd never get to Zephra in time otherwise." When Percy doesn't answer at once, she swings her foot to kick him in the ankle. "You are coming to Zephra, aren't you?"

"Hmmm?" Percy blinks owlishly behind his glasses, but he can't hold the blank expression for long, and it is already breaking as he says, "Zephra? Is something happening in Zephra soon?"

"I hate you." Keyleth grins at him, trying to kick him in the ankle again. He pulls his feet out of the way, shifting backwards, and she loses sight of him for a moment behind the pillar.

He settles down facing her, smile not quite under control. "Next you'll be saying I have to bring you a present."

"Just bring yourself." She means it, but Percy makes a scoffing noise.

"Where's the fun in that? And what's the point of having a best friend with his own castle if you don't get the best gifts from it?"

"Whatever you give me will be lovely," Keyleth says. "And it's not your castle."

"Nope, and never will be." He's so emphatically cheerful that Keyleth sits back a little, leaning on her hands so she can see him better.

"I thought you loved Whitestone."

"I do, but I don't want to be in charge of it." He turns his head to look down into the courtyard again. "Father's practically buried under piles of parchment from dawn until dusk, and he can't walk through the town without people wanting to stop him and talk to him and have him solve their problems. If Julius wants that, he's welcome to it."

"And what are you going to do?"

That answer comes as easily as the last. "Make things. I've got all kinds of things I want to make, and if I don't have to worry about the grain harvest or King Bertrand's daughter's wedding, I'll have the time to do whatever I want."

Percy's room is full of weird-looking objects and tools whose purpose is a complete mystery to Keyleth, so she's not that surprised. "You already get to do that."

"Yes, but no one lets me make anything interesting."

"You mean explosive."

"What's more interesting than that?"

They grin at each other, because the one and only time Professor Anders had let Percy near black powder during one of his lessons, neither of them had really expected him to be able to make something that loud. He'd been banned from using it within the castle bounds again.

Her smile turning wistful, Keyleth pulls up her knees and wraps her arms around them. "At least you have a choice," she says. "You can do whatever you want."

"Sort of." Percy shifts around, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on them. "But it's not like I can do anything important, or go far from here, really." Seeing her frown, he shrugs. "You might not have noticed, but my parents take the idea of an heir and a spare very seriously. Lots of spares. They're not just going to let us run around the world adventuring."

"At least you know where all your family is," Keyleth says. It's not something she really thinks about much at home, but being in Whitestone, with the loud, energetic and affectionate de Rolos, she is always keenly aware of the hole in her own family.

Carefully, awkwardly, Percy reaches out and puts his hand over hers. "You're going to do great," he tells her, and Keyleth doesn't let herself stop to think. She grips his hand in both of hers and looks up at him.

"Come with me," she says. "I know it's not for years yet, but when I have to leave, come with me." She can sense his hesitation and presses on. "You don't have to go through the trials, that's just for me. But it's a long journey. I'll need some company."

His eyes seem huge behind his glasses as he stares at her. "I...Keyleth, what use am I going to be to you? You're going to learn magic, you're going to learn to fight. I can't even conjugate all my verbs in Elvish yet!"

"I don't know, but we've got years yet. Who knows what will happen before then. Anyway," she says determinedly, "you'll be there as my friend. And that is always of use."

When they've talked about her Aramenté before, it's always been been abstract, distant. But, with Julius' coming of age so close to her own, Keyleth suddenly feels like it's just around the corner, and she knows that she doesn't want to face this alone.

"Okay," Percy says slowly, lifting his free hand to rest on their joined ones. "When the time comes, if you still want me to, I'll come with you." He takes a deep breath. "I suppose I'd better start to get ready as well."

It's what he always says to her, and Keyleth can't think of better words to seal the promise. "You're going to be brilliant."

He shakes his head. "No," he says. " _We_ are going to be brilliant."

~

In the morning, Keyleth had once again to depend on the servants to help her locate Percy. He was at the top of the south tower, wrapped in a heavy greatcoat and looking with pride at a huge metal cylinder that was propped up on the battlements. On the other side of it, Vex was giving him what Keyleth would have to describe as an indulgent smile. Apparently Vex wasn't the only indulgent one, since she was wearing a thick fur stole that Keyleth was reasonably sure wasn't hers. She had a sudden moment of envy for it as the wind whipped around the tower, icily cold.

"Good morning," she said, making them both jump, and Percy look faintly embarrassed.

"Good morning," he said, and then frowned at her. "Good heavens, woman, anyone would think you'd never seen a Whitestone winter before. Here." He crossed to her, shrugging out of his greatcoat and draping it over her shoulders. "How are you this morning?"

"Considering half the continent is in flames, a quarter of my people could be dead, and I fought two dragons yesterday?" She shrugged. "It's not been a great week."

He smiled a little, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "I know. But I was just explaining to Vex that Whitestone is well enough defended that we shouldn't have to worry immediately." He turned, gesturing to the metal cylinder, which Vex was now leaning against. "It's called a cannon."

"Is it like a ballista?" Keyleth let Percy lead her over to it, trying not to get caught in his obvious excitement.

"Sort of, but it uses black powder. There's none in it at the moment," he added quickly, as Vex jumped back as though the cannon was suddenly red hot. "We don't keep it armed. But it can fire one of these," he pointed to the corner where Keyleth could see a pile of metal balls, "faster and further than any arrow."

"Really?" Vex said, and Keyleth gave her a sharp look. She knew that drawl.

"I mean no disrespect to the archers amongst us," Percy said with a sketch of a bow, "and my firearms are in no way as reliable yet. But when they work, they are quite devastating." There was a distant look in his eyes as he said it, and as he gazed out over the town, and Keyleth wanted to physically pull at him, to drag him back from wherever his mind had gone.

"Let's hope we never need a demonstration," she said, resisting the urge to put herself between Vex and Percy, not entirely sure who she was trying to protect from whom.

"Indeed. Although we usually carry out tests around midday. Any earlier than that would alarm the town, but they're used to the noonday gun by now." Percy still sounded cheerful, which felt wrong to Keyleth. Being able to fight was a necessary evil, even for defence. That he could be so blasé about such a powerful weapon was making her decidedly uneasy.

Vex, apparently oblivious to Keyleth's mood, said, "I'd be fascinated to see it."

"Then you shall." Percy looked from her to Keyleth and back again. "But for now, may I suggest we have some breakfast? Everything should be ready."

"We'll be down in a minute," Keyleth said, giving Vex what she hoped was a significant look. "I just need to talk to Vex first."

Finally picking up her seriousness, Percy nodded. "As you wish. I shall see you both downstairs."

To Keyleth's relief, Vex didn't even try to wink at him as he left, just pulled the stole up further and smiled at him. The effect was more or less the same, though, and the tips of Percy's ears as he passed Keyleth to get to the stairs were a distinct shade of pink.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Vex turned a gentler version of her smile on Keyleth. "I like your friend," she said. "Even if he is a little strange."

"I like him too," Keyleth said, waving her hands when Vex raised an eyebrows at her. Honestly, first Vax and now his sister. She never seemed to have the right words when she was talking to the twins. "No, not like that. He's like a brother to me."

"Oh. Good."

Sighing a little, Keyleth pulled Percy's coat tighter around herself and went over to lean on the wall on the other side of the cannon. She was aware of Vex watching her, and equally aware that she was doing a poor job of hiding her discomfort.

"Is this where we have the conversation that Vax has had with everyone I've winked at?" Vex asked, and despite herself, Keyleth smiled.

"Not exactly. I mean, it's not like he gets out much, but Percy can look after himself."

"Then are you going to warn me about him?" Vex asked, and when Keyleth didn't answer, her voice turned serious. "You are going to warn me about him."

"Not exactly. No. Yes. Maybe." Frustrated at herself, Keyleth pulled the coat on properly, although the sleeves were far too long. "There's something different about him."

"Vax said you were concerned, but I didn't realise you were so serious. Like I told him, it's been a few years. I'm sure you've changed in that time too."

"Yes, of course. That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

Keyleth stared down into the courtyard of Whitestone castle, trying not to relive the memories. "Has he told you what happened to his family?" she asked.

"He said they all died." Vex wasn't an idiot and she would know that Keyleth was going somewhere with this.

"They were all killed," Keyleth corrected. "Here in this castle. His father and mother and five of his brothers and sisters, by people they'd invited to dinner. They'd bribed the guards and some of the castle staff. A lot of people died that night, and none of them came back."

"I can understand why he doesn't talk about it," Vex said. "But I don't understand why you're telling me this now."

It didn't quite make sense in Keyleth's head, and she couldn't form words around the vague unease that had settled on her since last night.

"I just think we need to be careful," she said at last. "Things might not be what they seem."

"That's what you and Vax were talking about? He said I should try to get to know Percy a little, and that you were worried. I thought you just thought they might be jealous of each other." Vex held up a hand to forestall Keyleth's protests. "Please, I do not understand what the hell is going on between you and Vax, and I really don't want to. But I do need to understand you and Percy, because we are about to put a lot of lives in his hands. If there's any chance he can't be trusted-"

"That's not what I mean!" Taking a deep breath, Keyleth forced herself to think rather than just speak. "After what happened, I know that there is nothing Percy wouldn't do to keep Whitestone safe, along with anyone in it." The words out at last, Keyleth finally had a grip on it. "I'm just worried where that commitment might take him. There's something he's not telling me, I know it. Something important."

When Vex was silent for a long moment, Keyleth looked over to her, seeing her own thoughtfulness reflected on Vex's face.

"Is there anything specific you can think of? What is it exactly that's making you so uneasy?" Vex asked, and Keyleth started to shake her head, before realising she had an answer.

"This," she said, patting the cannon. "Other things he's got plans for in pictures all over his study. Those strange weapons the guards were carrying, Things I've never seen before. He was always clever, but this is like nothing I've ever seen."

"You're sure it's him?" Vex asked. "We've met creatures that can mimic-"

"No, I'm sure." There was that, at least, although it didn't necessarily make things better. "Maybe I'm just overreacting. He's been through a lot, and grief affects people differently." 

Vex took half a step away from the cannon, looking it up and down for a long moment, before shrugging. "It's not like I know much about healing, and maybe he just needs a friend." If she saw Keyleth wince, she didn't show any signs of it, going on, "But when Pike brings the rest of the refugees through, she might be able to see something we've missed."

Pike. Of course. The relief washed over Keyleth, and she nodded. "Yes, that's a good idea. Maybe one of us could trip him up or something so that there's an excuse for her to-"

"Or we could just ask her to be subtle about it." Vex was smiling a little, but it was kindly so Keyleth didn't mind too much. "I'm sure we'll think of something."

As they started back down the stairs, Keyleth stopped and looked back at the cannon, its long, dark shape looming over the terrace and the city below.

"Pike will know what to do," she told herself, and braced herself to go down to breakfast.

~

Despite her conversation with Vex, Keyleth was actually surprised at how relieved she was when the portal through the Sun Tree closed and Pike was suddenly standing in the main square of Whitestone, blinking in the sunlight reflecting off the snow.

Vex rushed forward to hug her, while Genine and some of the other townspeople helped the last of the refugees - including Gilmore - onto carts and wagons prepared for them. Still feeling rather unsure of herself, Keyleth hung back, watching the others fuss around as Grog all but threw Pike up onto his shoulders, both of them laughing and joking.

"Your friends certainly seem happy to see each other again." Percy nudged Keyleth with his shoulder.

"They're family," Keyleth said, shrugging a little. "I suppose we all are, really."

"That's good." There was real warmth in Percy's voice, enough that she turned a little to look at him. "I'm glad for you."

"Thank you."

Inevitably Vex's keen eyes found the two of them loitering at the edge of the group, and she put a hand on Grog's arm, gesturing for him to lean down so she could speak to Pike.

"I think that's our cue," Percy said, taking Keyleth's hand and slipping her arm through his. It was natural and familiar, and Keyleth forced herself to put her worries aside for five minutes, and introduce him to Pike properly.

For her part, Pike gave him a warm smile and held out her hand for shaking. Only when Percy clasped and released it without incident did Keyleth realise she'd been expecting something to happen. Instead, Pike held out her arms and Keyleth knelt to hug her.

"What's wrong?" Pike whispered in her ear as they embraced, and Keyleth only managed not to jump because she was being held so tightly.

"Later," Keyleth murmured, trying to get her face under control before she stood again. It obviously wasn't as successful as she'd hoped, because Percy gave her a strange look as she turned to him. There was no time for him to ask her about it, as Grog came striding over.

"All set," he said, holding out a hand for Pike, and swinging her up again. "Apparently we need to get Gilmore out of the cold before his nuts freeze or something."

"I'm sure that's it exactly," Percy said dryly. "And now that you're all here, we should talk about what happens next. But not here." He gestured for the others to go first. "Shall we?"

As they set off back up the hill, he took Keyleth's arm again, holding her back a few paces.

"Are you going to make me ask?" he said, keeping his voice low.

"Ask what?"

"About your friend. The gnome. As soon as she arrived you started to look-" He broke off, searching for the word. "Like you're anticipating something. And not a good something."

"Did I?" She was a lousy, lousy liar, and ever since Vex had put the idea in her head, it was all she could think about. Because, more than anything, she wanted there to be something wrong with Percy. If there wasn't, then she was either going crazy herself, or had an awful lot to answer for. "I think I was half expecting a dragon to follow her through or something. Or that she wouldn't be there at all. In case you hadn't noticed, we've all had a rather stressful few days."

He stopped her then, taking her shoulders and forcing her to face him. "I know that, Keyleth. But that's not it. And if there's something dangerous about this friend of yours, I need to know."

And that wasn't so much jumping to a conclusion as taking a flying leap in the wrong direction. Keyleth was so surprised that she just stared at him, open-mouthed, for a long moment, with absolutely no idea what to say. For half a second, she wondered if it would be better to let him think that, rather than admit that it was him she was worried about. But she didn't know how to put words around that thought without it sounding awful.

"Okay, so that's not it." He frowned at her, his eyes narrowed. "What is it, then?"

Awful it was. "She's a cleric," Keyleth said. "A healer. And I've been worried about you. You seem different to when I was last here."

"You were last here more than two years ago," he said, a little sharper than he'd meant to, from the way he immediately pressed his lips together and shook his head. The hands on her arms tightened and relaxed for a moment. "Sorry, it's just been a long time. A lot changes in two years. Maybe I've become grumpy in my old age."

"Percy, you are exactly forty-four days older than me," Keyleth said. "And I'm sorry, but I worry about you. I always have."

"And always will, no doubt. Is that why your friend was chatting me up on the battlements this morning? Actually, don't answer that. She's very pretty, nice to talk to and I'm not sure I care." 

By now, Keyleth's face was hot enough that she was surprised the nearby snow wasn't melting.

"I didn't ask her to 'chat you up,' I promise. But after last night, I did want to know if I was imagining things."

"Did you get an answer?" He was close to angry now, she knew. "Was that easier than just asking me yourself?"

"I did, last night. Twice. And you spent an hour telling me about the temple of Pelor in Vasselheim." She could feel her own temper rising, and tried to dampen it down. "It felt like you wanted to talk about anything but how you are, what you've been doing. Do you blame me for worrying?" He'd looked away from her, so she stepped over, putting a hand on his arm. "You can't expect me not to notice, Percy."

At the sound of his name, he started a little, turning to her. It took her a second to realise that now, no one ever called him that. His family had always used Percival, while to the inhabitants of Whitestone, he was Lord de Rolo. The flare of temper drained out of his expression, and he looked tired for a moment, staring into the distance again. He seemed to be caught in an internal dilemma, finally pushing it away with a shake of his head.

"You're right," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I am different, I think. I'm sorry if that's not for the better, and also sorry if that's come across as…." he trailed off, shaking his head. "As whatever you think it has. Five years is a long time. I thought I would feel better by now. That it wouldn't still be so present."

Keyleth's own grief was fresh, and so raw that she tiptoed around the thoughts rather than facing them directly. Who knew how it would change her over the course of the coming years, or how it might, if she didn't have her friends to lean on. The guilt of Percy's words weighed on her for a moment, and she forced herself to shrug it off. Right now, that wasn't going to help. She could wallow later; Percy didn't need that right now.

"So maybe we are different," she said, trying for matter-of-fact in her tone. "In which case, maybe we need to start again." She stepped back to arm's length away and held out her hand. "I'm Keyleth of the Air Ashari, member of Vox Machina, and a dragon just destroyed my world. I'm very pleased to meet you Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Kossowlski de Rolo the Third."

"Show off." But he took her hand, kissed it, and drew it back through his arm. "I'm very pleased to meet you too, Keyleth of the Air Ashari. I'm Percy, and I think I may have been alone in my castle for too long. Would you care for some lunch?"

"Yes, very much." The words sounded lighter than she felt, and it was hard to shake the feeling that, once again, she'd been deflected from the answer she'd been looking for.

She stretched a little as they climbed the hill, telling herself that the unease would wear off once she had a chance to talk to Pike properly. The sun had moved from its noonday position, casting some heat onto the back of Keyleth's neck. As they walked, she watched their joined shadow progress in front of them, its form growing and shrinking over the cobbles with every step.

~

The conversation with Pike would have to wait, as there was a small group of serious-looking people standing on the castle steps when they reached them.

Percy unhooked his arm from Keyleth's, waving to the group quickly. "I thought it best if the Council knew what was going on as soon as possible. There's no need for everyone to attend, but if a few of you could come and answer any questions, I'm sure it would be appreciated."

In the group, Keyleth recognised Keeper Yennen, as well as a few faces she couldn't put names to. At a quick headcount, she guessed there were fifteen or sixteen of them, all of them much older than herself and Percy.

"Vex and Scanlan are probably the best people to ask," she said, looking around for them, "I'll bring them along when I find them. Where is the meeting?"

"We've turned the old Drawing Room into the Council chambers, but just ask any of the servants and they'll point you in the right direction." And with that he was gone, striding over to the group and taking the steps two at a time to join them.

"Well," Keyleth said, watching them all disappear inside. "I suppose it's going to be a working lunch."

In fairness, food was provided, and Scanlan took full advantage, piling his plate from the platters in the centre of the large table. Vex rolled her eyes at him, but Keyleth knew she was more than a little uncomfortable here, looking around at the assembled nobility of Whitestone and having them all look back at her. As though anticipating it, Percy had sat the three of them directly to his right, giving them a prominence that was both flattering and intimidating.

He gave an abbreviated version of the story they'd told him the night before, ending with the arrival of the second batch of refugees.

"With Emon and Westruun fallen, and Syngorn fled to the Feywild, there is a vacuum in the leadership of Tal'Dorei," he said, leaning forwards a little. "Those who wish to fight back need somewhere to base themselves for meeting and planning. For better or worse, I have advised keeping Whitestone away from affairs on the rest of the continent for the past five years. Now may be the time to change that policy."

"What exactly are you asking of us, my lord?" The speaker was a woman in her sixties, her deeply-lined face creased in concern. 

Scanlan, holding a piece of bread almost as big as his fist, got there first. "We're asking you to do the right thing. The longer the dragons stay, the worse things are going to get for everyone else."

"I won't bother making the argument for saving the cities," Yennen said, "as I'm sure you all know how I feel about that. But I would add that there is an element of enlightened self-interest in helping to combat these dragons. If they are able to easily take over the larger cities, soon they will move on to the smaller ones."

"You don't know that." A man in a fine coat, with an air of prosperity about him that made Keyleth think _merchant_ , leaned forwards to look over at Yennen. "For all we know, they will make their lairs in these places and stay there, leaving the rest of us alone. If we draw attention to ourselves now, we could endanger everyone in Whitestone."

"No one is proposing you draw attention," Vex said. "In fact, I think it would be best if Whitestone remain as secret as ever. It's your invisibility that makes this the perfect headquarters." She turned to Percy. "Many of the people we need are magic users, and I'm sure they could find a way to help protect the city."

At least two other people started to speak at once, both overruled by a woman in practical-looking armour who was at the other end of the table to Percy. "It's a good point. While we have two powerful divine patrons, Whitestone has never had many who were trained in the arcane arts, so we know very little about them. As Keeper Yennen says, there is a strong argument in favour of enlightened self-interest in this course of action."

Scanlan leaned over towards Keyleth. "Does that mean they'll do it because they get something in return?" It wasn't much of a whisper, and all attention was now on them.

She shrugged a little. "More or less." When she looked over at Percy, he still had his calm, professional expression on, but there was a tinge of a smile playing around his mouth. 

This was what he wanted, she realised. He wanted them to talk themselves into it, with only the slightest nudge from him. And as someone else chimed in on their side, it looked like he was going to succeed.

The discussion started to wander into the sorts of details that people only worry about when they've made up their minds about the big picture. Where people would live. How would they eat. Would more soldiers be needed, perhaps more guns.

Percy shook his head at that last one. "That might be possible over time, but as you all know, the making of them cannot be rushed. I might be able to finish one or two more within a sensible time frame, but no more than that. Certainly not enough to be useful."

Frowning, Keyleth opened her mouth to speak, only to receive a sharp kick on the ankle, and an equally sharp look from Percy. 

_Later,_ he mouthed, and turned his attention back to the meeting. 

Later came quickly, the meeting having broken into smaller groups to start organising. It was going to be a lot of work, but things had gone better than Keyleth had expected. While not everyone seemed to think it was a good idea, they'd all supported it in the end, and agreed that if it was going to be done, it should be done properly. Which was a relief, because history suggested that Vox Machina shouldn't be allowed to plan a children's birthday party, let alone how to form a base of resistance. 

As soon as they were alone, Percy turned to her, looking a little guilty. "Sorry about that," he said. "But I didn't want to restart the gun argument. It comes up like clockwork at every other Council meeting, and I didn't want to get diverted."

"What is the gun argument?" Having been sitting too long, Keyleth got up from her seat, stretching a little. She was restless, every muscle in her neck and shoulders feeling far too tight. For all that she'd wanted to have some more open, weighty conversations with Percy, she hadn't been ready for one right now, but his tone told her that this was serious.

Percy stayed where he was, still sitting at the head of the table, his fingers drumming on the pile of papers in front of him. "They want me to teach someone else to make guns."

"And you don't want to."

"I don't even know if I can. Don't look at me like that," he said, without even turning, apparently sensing her rolling her eyes at him. "It's not arrogance, it's just the facts. There's more to it than just sticking metal and wood together. They take a lot of work and a lot of maintenance. Shooting them isn't hard, but everything else about them is. Get the wrong amount of black powder or the wrong size ammunition, and you're more likely to blow yourself up rather than the target. They're complicated things. I can't just teach someone how to make them without years of training. Maybe a lifetime."

"So start now," Keyleth said, slowly walking around the table, running her fingers over the backs of the chairs. "If it takes years, so be it. And maybe it won't be able to help against the dragons, but maybe it will do someone in future some good."

"Will it?" He still wasn't looking at her, focussing instead on the polished wood of the tabletop. "There are days when I wonder if-" 

"If?"

"If I should have made them at all."

It wasn't like she hadn't wondered the same thing herself as soon as she'd seen them. "Then why did you?"

"Because I didn't have time to learn magic, and I didn't think an arrow would be enough to blow Delilah Briarwood's head off." He looked up at her at last, the blank mask back in place. "I made them because I could, and because I wanted to, but there are days when I'm not sure I can be trusted with them, let alone anyone else."

Keyleth leaned in over the back of a chair, not letting him look away from her again. "Then why do you keep them, if you're so scared of them?"

"Because for now, I still need them. And with all this happening, it would be reckless to throw away a tool that could potentially protect us." He held her gaze steadily, and for all his surface calm, there was something there that she couldn't quite read. She was more sure than ever that he was hiding something, but for the first time, she got the sense that it was also something he was trying to tell her, if only she could understand.

Frustrated, she pulled the chair out and dropped into it, shaking her head at him. "I thought I was supposed to be the indecisive one," she said. "I find it hard to believe that they're really as different to other weapons as you seem to think."

Some animation came back to his face with almost unnerving speed, and he got to his feet, smoothing down his coat. "Perhaps we should have a practical demonstration," he said, gathering up his papers. "Why don't you ask everyone to come out into the courtyard in ten minutes and I'll show you."


	5. Foundations

**__** __

_**A friendship that can be ended didn't ever start.**  
Mellin de Saint-Gelais_

****

**Fifteen**

For all that Percy always says how much he dislikes camping, he seems comfortable enough here, and when he leans over to take another handful of herbs, Keyleth nods, letting him drop them onto the half-banked fire. The sweet smell fills the mouth of the cave and they both take long, deep breaths of the smoke. It drifts up and out of the mouth of the cave, thin grey tendrils swirling and dissipating in the light evening breeze.

"Your dad just let you bring this?" Percy asks, leaning back on his hands.

The mellowness is creeping into Keyleth's mind now, and she smiles. "Pretty much. I mean, I think he saw me take some and he didn't tell me not to. So. Yes? What about your parents?"

"Trust me, as long as I don't do anything to disgrace the family name, they really don't care what I do."

That doesn't sound right to Keyleth, a thread of untruth that she can't quite get hold of. "I'm sure they care," she says, because she's seen them. She knows they do.

"Oh they care generally, just not specifically." When Keyleth frowns at him, Percy shifts backwards so he can lean against the cave wall, leaving his hands free to gesture. "They care if I'm happy or sad or in trouble or bored or things like that. But with everyone else around as well, they don't mind too much what specific things I'm doing to occupy myself."

That makes more sense. She's seen enough of Percy's family to know that both Lord Frederick and Lady Johanna are doting but distracted parents, and can easily see how Percy is the one they'd worry about the least. Aloud, she says, "That's nice," mostly for something to say, but it makes Percy snort.

"Something like that," he says. He's starting to sound a little fuzzy around the edges, although when she looks over, his eyes are open and fixed on her.

Suddenly uncomfortable, she shifts around, facing out of the cave and leaning her shoulder against the other side of the entrance. She's feeling okay at the moment, but knows from experience she'll be pleasantly dizzy soon. Even though she can't see him any more, she can feel Percy's eyes still on her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

She doesn't ask what he means. Despite the question, she doesn't think he knows specifically what's bothering her. He just knows her.

"Maybe." She didn't, not really, not before now. But the herbs have given her a cocoon, a padding between her and the world outside, and it's just enough to stop it hurting too badly. "I've been thinking about my mother a lot lately." Percy makes a sympathetic noise but doesn't speak, which is good, because she doesn't think she could go on if he interrupted her.

"It's weird that the more I learn, the more I study, the more I wonder what she was like. Father won't talk about her, not really. He misses her too much. I don't remember her properly, so I miss having a mother, but not her specifically. Every time I learn a new spell, or something about the history of the Ashari, or do anything towards my Aramenté, I wonder, is this what she was like? Is this what it was like for her? And if so, am I hurting him? Does he see me in her? Does it help? Or does it just make it worse?" She sighs, glancing over to Percy, who is still watching her, his expression impassive.

"Have you asked him?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know how to. There are days when it feels like whatever I do, I'm going to make it worse. And what if I can't do this? What if I go off like her, and never come back?"

"You're not scared for you," Percy says. "You're scared for him."

"How can he stand it?" Keyleth's voice is breaking, but she needs to finish this. "After what happened to her, how can he stand for me to do this?"

"Because he believes in you." Moving with exaggerated care, Percy shifts around the fire, coming to sit behind her. They're both a little wobbly by now, so he leans against the wall of the cave, tugging against her shoulder until she leans back against him and he can wrap his arms around her. His coat smells of the herbs, sweet and comforting. "And because he knows that some things have to be done. You can't escape your duty."

"What would you know about that?" she says, a little peevishly. "All you do is sit and play with your toys all day." That's not entirely fair and they both know it, but right now it feels a bit much for him to be talking about duty.

He doesn't do anything except huff a laugh into her hair and squeeze her a little more tightly. "True enough. It's weird, though, knowing you're only around in case your brother and sister die. I am entirely pointless as long as they're alive. My duty," he stresses the word, "is to do that. It's to be here, just in case. And it's not as important as yours, but we all have responsibilities. Unless you plan to run away and join the circus."

"Tempting." She brushes at her face, not surprised that her cheeks are wet, and then lets her hands rest on top of Percy's. "I'm sure I'd make an excellent clown."

"I'm sure you would too," Percy says, and laughs again when she smacks his wrist. "And I'm sure your father would be proud of you, no matter what."

He's sounding more sleepy now. Keyleth makes a sound that might be agreement, although she's not entirely sure of that herself. He's warm against her back, and the mellowness in her own mind is making her drowsy. Outside the cave, the forests around Whitestone are deep and dense, hiding the city from view entirely. If she lets her mind wander, she can pretend it doesn't exist at all. That there's no Air Ashari awaiting her return, and no future beckoning onwards.

"I won't rule out the circus just yet, then," she says, and settles back listening to the rustle of the leaves, the song of the birds and the gentle snores coming from behind her.

~

Ironically, having everyone gather outside for Percy's demonstration finally gave Keyleth a chance to talk to Pike. She and Vax chose a spot in the sun on one side of the courtyard, while Grog, Scanlan, and Vex clustered with Percy and the guards at the centre, waiting for a row of targets to be set up some distance away.

"Your friend has quite the place here," Pike said, clambering up onto the wall so she was at head height with the others. "Even Gilmore was impressed with his room."

"That takes some doing," Vax said. "And Vex was saying these weapons of his aren't like anything she's seen before."

"I don't think anyone's seen anything like this." As she looked around the courtyard, Keyleth caught sight of a blue flag flying high over one of the battlements. From that position, it would be clearly visible in the town below, presumably to tell the town that they didn't need to panic just yet. "I don't really understand how they work, except that they use black powder somehow."

"Vex said. I couldn't work out if she was impressed or worried." Vax glanced over at Pike, then up at Keyleth. "Did you ask her yet?"

By now, Keyleth was used to the idea that the words of one twin would come out of the other's mouth at some point, so she just shook her head. "There hasn't been time, has there?"

"Ask me what?" Pike looked between them, then out at where the guards were spreading out in a long line. Percy was guiding the others back and away to give them some space, sketching something with his hands as he spoke. "What's going on?"

"Keyleth thinks there's something wrong with him," Vax said, diffidently enough that Keyleth had to resist the urge to glare at him.

"Not exactly," she said slowly. "He just seems different somehow. He says it's just that he's spent too long up here alone."

"But you don't think that's it." Narrowing her eyes a little, Pike kept her attention on Percy as she spoke. "What do you think it is?"

"I was hoping you could tell me that." It sounded even more pathetic out loud than it had done in Keyleth's head, as though Pike would just take one look at Percy and either bring him back to himself or reassure her that he was fine, just different.

Pike blew out a long breath. "Short of a spell, I don't think I can tell you more than you already know. I mean, he looks like he doesn't get out in the sun very much, and maybe a bit tired, but anyone can see that. If you think he's ill, we can try a healing spell."

"I don't think he's ill. I think he's hiding something. I just don't know what." Now that it came to it, Keyleth found the words were stuck in her throat, and she looked over at Vax, willing him to understand.

He nodded, expression grim. "But you don't think it's anything good."

Before any of them could say anything else, there was a shout from the row of guards. Each of them raised the weapons they'd been carrying on their belts, pointing them at the targets. They didn't look like more than a tube of wood and metal, about as long as Pike's forearm, and Keyleth had a moment to wonder how on earth they worked before there was an almighty explosion.

Next to her, Pike actually grabbed at Keyleth's arm to stop herself falling off the wall in surprise, while Vax had taken half a step towards Grog and his sister, into the cloud of grey smoke that was now filling the space. The ringing in Keyleth's ears was so loud that it took her a moment to realise that Percy was shouting over the top of it, holding up his hands in a gesture of restraint.

"It's alright!" The words were just audible above the echoes. "It's alright! They're meant to do that."

The smoke made Keyleth's eyes water, and she brushed at them, trying to get her vision to clear. When she could focus again, she saw that the three targets at the end of the courtyard had been knocked over, loose straw sticking out of the holes. At her best guess, the distance was about a hundred and fifty feet, and each target would have been hit by at least three projectiles. As the guards trotted forwards, she noticed the wall behind the targets was pitted and chipped, and she realised with a start that whatever had hit them had gone straight through. It took years for most people to master weaponry, and the training gave them time to mature into it, to understand what they were doing. The idea that within a few hours, anyone could have that sort of destructive power at their command was chilling.

Pike was off the wall and hurrying towards the others and Percy before Keyleth had pulled herself together. Vax put a hand on her arm to stop her following for a moment. 

"That was not normal," he said softly, something shaken in his voice. "Did you know they would do that?"

"Do I look like I knew?" Shaking his hand off, Keyleth started to join the others, watching Percy as she approached. 

He seemed to be enjoying the general surprise, although as always, there was a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks, as though while he was pleased with the effect, he wasn't entirely comfortable taking the praise for it. That seemed appropriate, as Keyleth wasn't entirely sure how pleased he should be with his handiwork. 

Some of that must have shown on her face as she approached, because he broke off from talking to the others and came over to meet her halfway.

"Are you alright?" he asked, reaching out to put a hand on her arm. "You look frightened."

"Are you surprised?" She didn't even try to keep the worry from her face any more. "No wonder you don't want anyone else getting their hands on them. Percy, what have you done?"

He drew back a little, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I thought you'd be impressed."

"I think I am. But-" She shook her head. "If they can do that, what can the one up on the tower do?"

"Hopefully? Bring down a dragon." He frowned at her, more obviously upset than she'd seen him since they'd arrived. "All of this is to protect Whitestone, Keyleth. I told you that."

"I know you did. But when you built it, you didn't know about the dragons, did you?" She took half a step closer, lowering her voice. "Did you really do all this just in case the Briarwoods come back? Do you honestly think that's likely?"

For a second, something flashed in Percy's expression, a sudden burst of anger so sharp that Keyleth half-lifted a hand to ward him off. He opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again quickly as a shadow fell over them both. Grog slapped him on the back hard enough that Percy took two steps towards Keyleth before catching himself.

"That was brilliant," Grog said. "Can I try one?"

Percy eyed Grog's huge hand, which would swamp one of the smaller guns, and tilted his head a little. "I'm not sure. Let's find out." He carefully didn't look at Keyleth as he waved one of the guards over, and led Grog towards him. Behind both their backs, Pike narrowed her eyes a little and muttered something under her breath, her fingers twitching as she cast the spell.

What it was, Keyleth couldn't tell, but after a second, Pike looked over to her and shook her head. Vax, now at Keyleth's shoulder, blew out a breath.

"I don't know if I'm relieved or not," he said.

Keyleth knew, and she absolutely wasn't. Her only problem now was what to do about it.

~

Everyone had dispersed for the afternoon, and Keyleth found herself in the library, not sure if she was looking for answers or just looking for somewhere to hide. She was more than a little surprised to find Scanlan curled up in a chair by the fire, a huge book across his lap and a pensive expression on his face.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Keyleth asked, taking the chair across from him and staring into the fire.

"Did you know that Whitestone is one of the oldest settlements in Tal'Dorei?" Scanlan didn't look up from his book. "Apparently the Sun Tree might be nearly a thousand years old. And the temples to Pelor and Erathis are a few hundred years old at least. Huh." 

"What?"

"Well, apparently there used to be a temple to Ioun around here somewhere as well. You'd think it would be hard to miss, a great big pyramid in the middle of a small town like Whitestone. I wonder what happened to it."

It took Keyleth a minute to catch up. "You mean like the one underneath the Slayer's Take? I don't think I've seen anything like that here."

"That's what I mean. It would be as obvious as someone who's surprised to find the person they haven't seen in a few years isn't quite the same any more." He looked up from the book at last, straight at her, and Keyleth shifted in her seat.

"Was it Vax or Vex?" she asked.

"Neither. Anyone could see that you keep looking at him strangely, right from when we arrived to the end of that stupid meeting. One minute it's like you've found your long-lost brother again, the next, you look like you're expecting him to breathe fire or something. What's going on with you?"

It was a fair question and, despite it being Scanlan who was asking, it probably deserved a full answer. If only she knew what that was.

"When I left for my Aramenté," she said slowly, "Percy was supposed to come with me. He was never supposed to be in charge of Whitestone. But when it happened, there was only him and Cassandra to keep everything going, and Cassandra devoted herself to Pelor since his priest had been killed in the attack. Percy felt he didn't have a choice. Either Whitestone would be left without a leader, or he could stay and do the one thing he never wanted to do."

"So life sucks. So what?"

For all that she wanted to glare at him, Keyleth supposed Scanlan had a point. "I didn't want to leave him here either. I was going to complete my Aramenté as well and as quickly as I could, then go home. From there, we'd be able to set things up like they used to be. The Ashari used to come and go from Whitestone all the time, and people from here who wanted to could come and join the Ashari. We were family, and it all got broken. Families always get broken." This time, Scanlan stayed silent, and Keyleth kept her eyes on the fire. "When I left, I never thought I'd be away so long. I never meant to leave him alone like this."

"Really, that's what this is about?" Keyleth heard the thud of the book slamming shut, and looked over to see the edge of exasperation on Scanlan's face. "You feeling guilty for leaving him behind?"

"I didn't leave him behind. He had to stay." 

"Then why do you feel guilty?" 

She opened her mouth to answer, realised she didn't have anything she could say, and closed it again. Scanlan gave her a knowing look.

"I'm sure your friend isn't quite the same as when you left him. And yeah, maybe he's mad at you for going, and maybe you're mad at him for not keeping everything exactly as it used to be when you were kids. But maybe give the guy a break? Having a vampire and a necromancer kill your family in front of you has to mess with your head a bit."

"I know, I-" Keyleth stopped, frowning. "How did you know about his family? I haven't told anyone about that."

"I have my ways," Scanlan said breezily.

"You bribed a servant."

"That too." He shrugged. "It was obvious that there was something weird going on between the two of you, and I thought at least one of us should know what it was. And the whole thing sounded pretty horrific, you can't really blame him for not just snapping out of it."

"I don't." That was true, she realised as she said it. "But I know he's keeping something from me. It's like he wants to tell me, but doesn't know how, and it's making him strange. Distant."

"Maybe he is. But maybe you need to get to know him again, rather than just popping up after two years with a bunch of strangers and dumping all your problems onto him. He can't solve them all for you, any more than you can solve his."

She sucked in a breath, the truth of it hitting like a sucker punch. "I should talk to him, shouldn't I?"

"Rather than assuming there are monsters under all the beds in Whitestone? Probably. You could also ask him what happened to the temple of Ioun while you're at it." Scanlan opened the book again, going back to his reading as though she wasn't even there.

_Right,_ Keyleth told herself. _I'll drop it in there between 'sorry for abandoning you' and 'whatever you have to tell me, I'll still love you'. I'm sure that will be fine._

~

Percy hadn't joined them for dinner, and wasn't in his study either. Rather than give in to her frustration and simply scry on the man, Keyleth headed back down to the front hallway, trying to see if there was anyone around to ask. Instead, she found Keeper Yennen wrestling with the door bolt, which he seemed to be having trouble with.

He started when she said his name, his shock giving way to a smile when he recognised her.

"You look wonderful," he said. "I meant to say so earlier. Adventuring has been good for you, I think."

"Sometimes. Sometimes not so much." She accepted his hand, letting him hold on as he looked her up and down. "Did you come to talk to Percy about the dragons?"

Yennen's face grew grave. "I did. Things will move quickly now, and information must be shared as quickly as possible. I also meant to say earlier that I was so sorry to hear about Pyrah."

Touched that he even remembered, Keyleth squeezed the hand still holding hers. "Thank you. And for what Whitestone is doing. We had nowhere else to go."

"I think it is I who should be thanking you." Letting go at last, Yennen folded his hands on top of his cane. "We have, perhaps, been too much alone up here these last few years."

It felt like a bold question, but Keyleth had to ask. "Do you mean Whitestone, or do you mean Percy?" She glanced around. "I remember so many people here. So many parties and meetings and dinners. The whole place feels so empty."

"He's not had much cause for celebrations, and formal dinners hardly seemed appropriate. Ambassadors come and go from time to time, but no, nothing like it used to be." Yennen sighed a little. "We all tried to help him through his grief, but there are some things that just take time to heal. I fear he takes his responsibilities too seriously."

It was a standard platitude, but there was something in the way Yennen said it that didn't sound quite right. 

"What do you mean?" Keyleth asked. 

"He works too hard and too long," Yennen replied, shrugging a little. "I suppose we all do to some extent, but he has been so driven, especially this past year. It's as though he expects another attack at any time and is determined to be ready. He wanted to double the size of the army, strengthen all the walls, turn half the city upside down looking for whatever brought the Briarwoods here in the first place." He shook his head. "The people were becoming frightened, which was the last thing he wanted. So he made those infernal machines instead."

"The guns?" That wasn't quite the story that Percy had told her, or least, what she'd understood him to be telling her. Standing out in the hall, Keyleth felt horribly exposed, as though there was someone lurking in every shadow, listening to them. 

"And that cannon. Erathis only knows where he got the ideas from. Still, they're good weapons, and very clever, even if he is infernally secretive about how they're made. He says it's for the best, and I suppose he should know." There was something sad in his voice, although he gave Keyleth a weak smile. "It is good that you are here. We can be his Council, but he needs his friends as well."

"I'm not sure I'm the friend he needs right now," Keyleth said. "It's been more than two years. We're both different people."

"Nonsense," Yennen said, with such brusqueness that Keyleth was a little taken aback. "People change, of course, like new buildings on old foundations. But when those foundations are firm, the new buildings are just as strong as the old."

"I really want to believe that," Keyleth said, managing a weak smile. "Do you know where Percy is now?"

"He went down to his workshop, I believe." Yennen pointed to a door on the other side of the hall. "It's more or less under us right now. Now, be a dear, and help an old man with this wretched door, would you? I've told Percival it needs attending to."

Together, they managed to dislodge the bolt, and Yennen pulled up the hood of his cloak before stepping out into the snow. 

"It is so good to see you, Keyleth," he said, taking her hand again. "Welcome back to Whitestone."


	6. Shadows

 

 

__**Between the idea  
** And the reality  
Between the motion  
And the act  
Falls the Shadow  
_T. S. Eliot_

**Eighteen**

Eighteen is a big deal for humans, and even if Keyleth doesn't entirely understand it, she does respect it. Percy, who doesn't, leans over to her halfway through the evening.

"I don't suppose there's any chance at all that you could just fill the room with fog and get us out of this, could you?" he says in an undertone.

"The spell isn't nearly that strong," she half-whispers back. "And anyway, if I did, I don't think either of us would live to see nineteen."

Percy's mother is already looking at them both a little disapprovingly, and Keyleth leans away with an apologetic smile in her direction. Percy tugs at his cravat and does a poor impression of looking like someone happy to be having a birthday party.

It's funny, because he's not all that antisocial, and he doesn't generally mind being the centre of attention. He grumbles a bit about dinner parties, but he gets on well enough with all his brothers and sisters, and she's seen him turn on the formal charm for visiting dignitaries. But when the third member of the local nobility wanders up to start congratulating him, he turns such a forlorn look on his mother that she actually cuts in.

"That's fascinating, Baron Grufden," she says. "Could you give me just one minute with my son, please?" Without waiting for a reply, she turns her back on him, placing herself between him and Percy. Lady Johanna looks from Percy to Keyleth and back again. "Half an hour," she says quietly. "Do not leave the castle, and make sure you are back before your father's speech. And make sure you straighten that before you return." She taps Percy's cravat, then turns back to the Baron, giving Percy and Keyleth the cover they need to sneak out of the side door.

The cravat comes off at once, of course, and Percy stuffs it in his pocket. With the party in the great hall, most of the other corridors are quiet, and they find an empty parlour to slip into. As soon as the door is closed, Percy flops theatrically onto a sofa. "Thank Pelor for my mother," he says and Keyleth laughs.

"I thought you'd be enjoying yourself," she says, sitting down at the other end of the sofa. "You don't normally mind talking the ears off anyone who'll listen."

He can't reach her from where he is, and he pulls the cravat out of his pocket to make a half-hearted attempt to hit her with it. "It wouldn't be so bad if they were listening," he says. "Most of them just want to tell me how well I've done for getting to an age where they can bore me like an adult." He sighs. "It's one thing to be congratulated for something you've actually achieved. I don't mind that."

"Very noble of you," Keyleth says, pulling her feet out of the way before he can kick her in the ankle, and he grins at her.

"But just for living another year? It feels a little-"

"Odd?"

"Unearned." His smile is softer now. "Most of them will only be interested in me if they think I can speak on their behalf to my father or Julius, and I intend to make it quite clear that everyone can fight their own battles on that front. Then I'll go back to being invisible again."

"Do you want to be invisible?" He's in an odd mood, and Keyleth feels she should step at least a little carefully.

Percy shrugs. "Not exactly. But it would be nice to be thought of as non-essential. There's more chance I'll be allowed to travel if no one thinks I'm needed here." He looks over at her, and she finally gets it. In a few years, she'll be leaving for her Aramenté, and he hasn't forgotten his promise.

She's surprisingly touched, and although they're a little pressed for time, this seems like the right moment. Looking down, she wrestles for a moment with the catch on her satchel. "I have something for you," she says, pulling out the package and holding out her hand, only to find that Percy is mirroring her from the other end of the sofa.

"I know yours isn't for a while yet," he says, leaning in so they can exchange parcels, "but I don't supposed that matters."

She is holding a fine wooden box, much nicer than the parchment and string she'd wrapped Percy's in, although she knows he won't care. The box is small enough to fit in the palm of her hand, and when she looks up at Percy again, he is watching her with the same nerves that she's feeling.

"You go first," she says. "Birthday order."

He shrugs and pulls at the knot, carefully untying the string and unfolding the parchment. "I could never have guessed what it was," he says, and yes, okay, she hadn't done much to disguise the fact that it's a book. Still, she gets considerable satisfaction from the surprise on his face as he reads the title, looking at her in wonder as he opens the cover, running his finger down the title page. "Where did you find this?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you. A lady has to have some secrets." It's gratifying, though, the way he seems to forget about her for a moment, turning the pages slowly and blinking at the writing. She can't read it herself - almost no one in Zephra knows Celestial - but she'd been assured that it was rare, and Vesper had checked that it wasn't already in Whitestone's library. From the look on Percy's face, it has been worth all the effort.

"Thank you," he breathes, almost unable to tear himself away. "This is wonderful."

"You're very welcome." His eyes refocus on her, pulling himself with visible effort back to the here and now. "Go on then," he says, nodding to the box.

Inside is a delicate silver chain with a small charm on the end. Lifting it closer, Keyleth can see that it is a silver replica of the Sun Tree, with tiny jewels set at the ends of the branches. It's lovely, delicate work.

"It's beautiful," Keyleth breathes, and when she looks up, Percy is blushing a little in a way that seems familiar. "Did you make this?"

"I did." He looks as he always does when someone praises his work, undecided between pride and embarrassment. "I suppose I should have made a tree from Zephra but, well. The Sun Tree was on my doorstep and-"

"Percy," she says, cutting across him, because he could go on like this for the whole half an hour if she isn't careful. "Thank you. It's lovely."

He helps her to fasten it and - of course - the chain is just the right length. She'd known that his metalworking skills were progressing well, but she hadn't expected him to be able to make something so small. They sit in companionable silence for a while, him leafing through his book, her staring out of the window at the clouds racing across the sky.

Eventually, the door opens a crack, and Oliver sticks his head around it, rolling his eyes when he sees Percy.

"Mother said you wouldn't come back unless you were fetched. You're missing your own party."

"I know. Such a pity." Sighing a little, Percy closes the book and tucks it under his arm. Seeing Keyleth's raised eyebrow, he says, "I'm not leaving it here for anyone to find. It's mine, not the library's." He heads for the door, ruffling Oliver's hair as he passes. "We can't have the barbarians getting at it, can we?"

Oliver, who hadn't been quick enough to duck out of the way, tries to brush his hair flat again, and gives Percy's retreating back a baleful look. "He's so insufferable some days."

"Only some?" Keyleth asks with a smile, and Oliver shrugs.

"On the others, he's just annoying. Are you coming back as well?"

"In a moment," she says, waiting until he has left to take the necklace off again and examine it properly. She'd felt too self-conscious to do so when Percy was in the room, and she takes it over the window for the better light. The stones are gems, she realises now, tiny chippings of green set into the ends of the branches like fruit. The back isn't perfectly smooth, and when she turns it over, there's a single word in Elven engraved into the trunk of the tree.

_Ebrath_. Friend.

Smiling, Keyleth puts the necklace back on, collects her satchel, and heads back to the party.

 

~

The workshop was almost as bad as the study for the sheer number of pieces of paper everywhere. They were mostly stuck to the walls down here, rather than on the tables, and it wasn't hard to see why, as practically every surface was covered in the fruits of Percy's labours. There was a small forge in the corner, with a couple of sturdy work benches next to it, and a larger table in the middle of the room. Pieces of metal in every size and shape were strewn across them, along with gadgets and tools, most of which Keyleth had never seen before.

Percy was doing something with a long cylinder of metal, filing it carefully - she recognised that, at least - and apparently preoccupied with his task. Keyleth waited until he lifted the rasp to blow some of the shavings away before announcing herself.

"Yennen said you were down here."

"And so I am." He looked up, not unfriendly but not exactly warm and welcoming either. After their aborted argument in the courtyard, that wasn't exactly surprising. "Was there something in particular you wanted?"

Fighting her instinct to just blurt out the first of a hundred questions, Keyleth tried for a casual shrug. "I passed Yennen in the hall. Are preparations going well?" It wasn't a great conversation starter, but she'd never been good at this.

"Better than I'd hoped, actually." Percy set both metal and tool aside, gesturing for her to come in a little further. "The town hasn't expanded much in the last few years, so I think everyone is ready to see new people. We had some plans a few years ago for strengthened defences. I can't guarantee everything will work against dragons, but I have some ideas we can set in motion." Seeing her frown, he added, "We're thinking mostly about bunkers and keeping the roads clear for now. We need escape and defence rather than attack."

Keyleth smiled. "You know, that's actually something we can agree on again. That's rather nice."

"I'm glad," Percy said, and he sounded it. His face creased for a second, as though bracing himself, and when he spoke, it was more like her old friend, a little unsure in these sorts of conversations, but still determined to try. "I never meant to frighten you."

"And I never meant to leave you alone for so long."

They sat in the slightly awkward silence, watching each other. It felt like the right moment, and as much as Keyleth didn't want to make things worse again, she wasn't prepared to let it pass.

"Percy-"

"Keyleth-"

They both stopped at the same time as well, and Percy raised an eyebrow. "After you."

Too late to grab the thread, Keyleth shrugged. "You first. Birthday order."

"Right." Percy shrugged a little. "I was just going to ask how long it would be before you had to set out again. You're welcome to use Whitestone as a base for anything you need, I hope you know that. But I assume you and your friends will have other places you need to visit."

"I think so. Vasselheim will probably be our first stop. We have contacts there who might be able to advise us."

"The Slayers' Take?" When she blinked at him, surprised, Percy grinned. "I listen when you talk, believe it or not. Don't tell me anything you don't want me to remember."

"Point taken." She shrugged a little. "I don't think any of us have thought about it too much, but we'll want to go soon, maybe in a day or so. No one wants those things out there longer than they have to be." She took a step towards the table, into the ring of candlelight. "You could always come with us. See Cassandra, maybe?"

"You're as bad as Yennen," Percy said. "Always telling me to get out more."

"Don't you want to see her?" Keyleth asked. "We have a way to send you straight back here once we're finished, but I thought you might want-"

"Of course I want to see her." The good humour retreated a little, and as he looked away from her, the hardness was back in both his voice and his eyes. "There is nothing I would like more. But I have my work, as she has hers."

"I'm sure you're both entitled to a day off once in a while." Even to her own ears, Keyleth was starting to sound wheedling, and she forced herself back to a more reasonable tone. "And I've already seen that you have organised things here well enough that they could run without you for a while."

"The Council is perfectly capable of running without me at all," Percy said. "I'm mostly here to sign things and give them an excuse to keep the castle heated." He got up, taking both rasp and metal over to one of the tables by the forge. "I'll think about it. At the very least, you could take Cassandra a letter for me."

"At the least." Now that his back was to her, Keyleth let her attention wander to the papers on the wall. Some were similar to what she'd already seen, except there were more maps down here, which she hadn't expected. Percy was rearranging a pile of metallic pieces, and the noise of it gave her the cover to lift some of the top pages, tilting her head to see the layers underneath. Even at the odd angle, one of the outlines was unmistakeable.

Slowly, and loud enough to be heard over his fussing, she said, "Percy, why do you have a map of Wildmount?' There was a loud clang, followed by silence. Still puzzled, but starting to get that tingling sensation at the back of her neck again, Keyleth unfastened the top papers, freeing the strangely drawn map. "It's very detailed. And you've crossed parts off." As she turned to take it to the table, she saw that on the other side of the room, Percy was frozen in place, his back to her.

Carefully, Keyleth laid the map down on the table. She'd studied all sorts of maps before setting out on her Aramenté, and she knew this was a good one. It was large enough to take up half the table's surface, and she had to move some of the metal pieces in order to set it down. A few slim metal cylinders rolled towards her, and she picked them up, thinking she could use them to weigh down the edges of the map. Engraving on the side of one cylinder caught her eye, and she turned it to the light to see it better.

_Silas Briarwood._

When she looked up again, Percy had turned to face her, face so blank that could only be intentional. He didn't say anything, even as the questions and answers bubbled up through Keyleth's mind. There were too many for her to properly articulate, and what eventually came out of her mouth didn't entirely make sense to her until she said it.

"I thought you were afraid of them coming back here. That's not it, though, is it?" She looked down at the cylinders again. There was writing on each of them, a name in Percy's clear, curling writing. Delilah Briarwood. Anna Ripley. Kerrion Stonefell. There had been other conspirators, but these were the ones who had escaped that night. Keyleth swallowed against the lump in her throat, forcing herself to speak. "Are you hunting them?"

"Is there any particular reason I shouldn't?" He sounded so absurdly calm that Keyleth could only stare at him. "After what they did here, they shouldn't just be allowed to walk away."

"No one _allowed_ that, Percy. But you're chasing ghosts. They could be anywhere."

"Actually, they can't." It was Percy's usual _let me tell you about this_ tone, and it was such a strange wrench to hear it from that cold face that Keyleth's hands tightened on what she now knew was a piece of a gun. "Your people didn't manage to kill them, but they did hurt them. Badly. Silas would need his home soil to recover properly, which means they must have gone back to Wildmount. I've had people travelling back and forth for the last two years, looking for answers. Recently, they stopped coming back."

Two years. "You waited until I'd left for my Aramenté." It didn't need to be a question, and Percy nodded, just a fraction.

"I didn't think you would approve."

Something else fell into place, and Keyleth tried to keep her temper under control as she said, "You're planning on leaving soon, aren't you? That's why you wanted to know how long we were staying. That's why you can't come to Vasselheim."

That cracked at least some of the mask, the corner of his mouth twitching just the barest fraction.

"You were the one who said it wasn't good for me to stay so long in Whitestone. And as I said, recently, some of my people haven't come back again. I need to move before the trail goes cold, and I won't risk anyone else's lives now I know where they are."

"But your life doesn't matter, is that it? And when you catch up to them, what then? You really think your new toys are going to be enough to deal with them?" She held up the engraved cylinder with Silas Briarwood's name on it. "They killed your family, Percy, and barely broke a sweat doing it, so if you're going after them, you must think you have a way to win. You wouldn't be doing this unless you had at least some chance against them. Whatever else you are, you're not stupid, even if you are an idiot for doing this in the first place."

"Thank you." Percy took a step towards her, away from the dark corner where the forge was, and the shadows moved with him, drawing Keyleth's eye. It was so gloomy in here that there could have been another person lurking in the corner and she wouldn't have known. Except she was starting to get the distinct impression that they weren't alone.

Percy was still talking. "Of course I know that the guns aren't enough as they are. I haven't finished making this one yet, but when I do, it should have enough power to take down the Briarwoods, and anyone who gets between me and them."

It was impossible now to keep her eyes on Percy, even as he started to cross the room slowly towards her. The amorphous shape that had crept across the wall behind him spread to the floor, its outline shifting into something jagged and spiked behind him.

She set the gun piece down on the table, wanting to have her hands free, as Percy and his monstrous shadow came another step towards her.

"What have you done?" she whispered.

"I needed help," he said, so calmly that he might have been telling her the weather was going to be nice today. "Cassandra wanted to go to Vasselheim, you left for your Aramenté. There was no one here I could turn to. As it happened, it came to me."

"It?" The shadows were curling around Percy's ankles now, and Keyleth couldn't pretend not to be staring at them any more. "What is that?"

"Help." It could have been the answer to her question, but something in the tone of Percy's voice made her lift her eyes to his, trying to work out if she'd imagined it or not. "I can't do this alone, as I said. So when help was offered, I decided to take it."

The darkness was starting to swirl behind Percy now, and despite it, a calm swept over Keyleth that let her still look Percy in the eye. She'd spent the last two days fearing for the worst, and now it was here, she actually felt ready for it, whatever it was.

"And in return?" she said, tilting her head a little when he didn't answer. "There's always an 'in return' for these deals. What did you offer?"

He glanced away from her, towards the table where the small pile of cylinders lay, candlelight glinting off the engravings. "It has ways to get what it wants. I couldn't have built any of these things without it, so repayment is only fair."

"Fair?" Surprising herself as much as Percy, what broke her calm wasn't fear but anger, and she slammed her hand on the table, the vibration starting the cylinders rolling around towards the edge. Percy flinched as one clattered to the floor, and Keyleth fought to keep control of herself. "Deals like that are never fair, Percy, you have to know that. Whatever that thing wants, I doubt you're going to come out on top."

"Does it matter?" His voice wasn't much more than a whisper now, and she could finally read his expression. It had escaped her before because it wasn't something she ever would have associated with him.

Resignation.

"It matters to me," she said, and she felt as much as saw the change in him, as though a tiny chink had opened somewhere. Needing to take advantage of it, she reached up to her throat, pulling hard enough on the fine chain to snap it, so that the charm came away in her hand. She held it out towards Percy, willing him to take it. The darkness behind Percy was swelling now, rising up in a monstrous cloud, and she tried not to look at it, concentrating on Percy. "You are my friend, Percy. And I don't care if that doesn't mean anything to you, it still does to me. I won't let you do this."

She saw Percy's jaw clench for a moment, and the hands that had been at his sides were flexing and relaxing, as though he was trying to hold himself back. When he didn't take the necklace from her, Keyleth laid it down on the table between them, the tiny gems glinting in the candlelight.

"It's not up to you." There was a deep weariness in his voice, like a man who had been fighting for too long and couldn't go on any further. "Anyway, it's done now. It can't be undone."

"The hell it can't." Stepping around the table to face him properly, Keyleth held out her now-empty hand to him again. "If there's one thing I've learned over the last two years, it's that it's never too late. All you have to do is ask, and we will help you. I will help you." When he didn't react this time, she took a step closer, fighting the urge to look into the darkness behind him. "And even if you don't ask, I will not let you do this."

"How do you plan to stop me?" The voice was Percy's, but Keyleth knew it wasn't only him speaking. She had been so fixated on his face that she hadn't seen the tendrils of shadow creeping up his body, and she flinched as one wound around his throat, another creeping upwards across his cheek.

She needed light, and as the thought came to her, the flames of her hands burst into life, the sudden flare making Percy flinch. Some of the shadow-tendrils retreated a little, pulling back before surging forwards again, almost enveloping Percy in darkness. Despite that, Keyleth's mouth twisted into a humourless, feral smile.

"If you're afraid of the light, there's a lot more where that came from. And if you think there is anything I wouldn't do to get my friend back, then you didn't ask him nearly enough questions about me."

For a moment, she braced herself, sure that an attack was coming, and her knees almost gave way when, instead, the darkness suddenly retreated, pulling away from Percy completely. He opened his mouth to say something to her, but was cut off by a clatter from the table, one of the metal cylinders rolling out of the shadows to his feet.

As though in a dream, Percy bent and picked it up, tilting it to the light a little so that he could see it better. Even upside down, Keyleth could see the same curling writing across it, like the others.

_Keyleth of the Air Ashari_

There was a moment of absolute silence. Keyleth could hear the blood rushing in her ears, the crackle and hiss of the flames around her hands, and Percy's harsh breathing as he stared down. Beyond that, she picked up the hint of a whisper, something low and growling. It was almost too quiet to hear, and she half closed her eyes, trying to make out the words.

_"Anyone who gets between me and them."_ It was a monstrous echo of Percy's words, and while it could have been his voice, the resonances too deep for him. Whatever this was, it sounded huge. And angry. 

Percy's face suddenly crumpled, and he doubled over for a moment as though in pain.

"No," he gasped, the word sounding as though it was being torn out of him. Keyleth reached for him, remembering in time that any touch would burn him, and she pulled back as he straightened, turned and hurled the gun barrel at the wall behind him. It disappeared into the shadows, but rather than the clatter of it hitting the wall, Keyleth heard a soft thud, as though it had hit flesh instead.

"That can't be good," she said, and let the fire die from her hands before reaching out to grab Percy's arm. He didn't resist, turning to her with a look of horror on his face.

"Keyleth, I-" he started, whatever he'd been going to say drowned out by a sudden, horrible scream from the shadows. It ripped through Keyleth's mind, making her stagger. Percy seemed similarly affected, and he stumbled into her, the two of them pulling away from the source of the noise.

"What is that?" Keyleth asked, and Percy looked at her, wild-eyed.

"I have no idea."

Pushing away the urge to stare at him in disbelief, Keyleth tightened her grip on his arm and started to drag him towards the door. "Of course you don't. Because if you're going to sell your soul to something, why bother to ask its name?"

The shadows were coalescing now, coming together in a cloud of darkness that nearly reached the ceiling. They needed to get out of these close quarters, where every shadow was making Keyleth jump, and now that Percy had stopped fighting her, she backed up faster, not wanting to look away from the growing monster.

"Its name is Orthax," Percy said, digging in his heels by the door, and leaning over to grab what looked like a long metal pole. "Somehow asking its exact species never quite came up in conversation."

Despite herself, Keyleth snorted a laugh, because that finally, _finally_ , sounded like her Percy again.

"Next time, get an address," she said. "For now, I'm just going to assume that we're sending it back to hell." Pausing for a second, she looked at him. "Tell me you didn't already give him anything, because this is going to be a lot more complicated if I have to worry about sending you there too."

Percy shook his head, firmly enough that she believed him. "Nearly. A few more days and the gun would have been finished. That was the deal. The others were just experiments, down payments." He huffed a little at her puzzled look. "I might be an idiot for doing this, but I'm not so much of an idiot as to not require proof that it could do what it said." He was pushing at her now, trying to get her out of the door as the shadow monster took full form, its first step towards them shaking the stone floor. "I hope you have an idea how we get rid of it again."

"I'm working on it." Reaching out, Keyleth concentrated for a moment, focussing her attention on the table between her and the monster. The spell caught, daylight streaming from the table's surface, and the small room was suddenly full of searingly bright light. The monster screamed again, this time in what sounded like pain.

Without waiting to see what it would do about it, Keyleth grabbed Percy again, and the two of them fled into the hallway.

"Can it follow us?" Percy asked, his hand under her elbow as they reached the stairs up to the main hall.

Keyleth was a little out of breath, both from the stairs and the sudden rush of adrenaline that was making her dizzy. "Don't you know?" she gasped.

"I think we've already established that I failed to ask several pertinent questions when embarking on this project."

How he had the wits or the breath to sound so pompous, Keyleth had no idea. She certainly didn't have enough to reply.

They stumbled up into the main hall of the castle, not stopping until they reached the middle of the space where the light of several lamps converged and Keyleth could turn to see all of the dark corners if she needed to. Percy unhooked a bag that had been tied to the metal pole and started rummaging in it.

"Should I bother to ask what we do next?" he said.

This time, Keyleth had an answer. "We get help," she said, and lifted her hand to her earring. "Everyone, main hall of the castle right now. Bring everything you've got. Jenga!"

There was a second's pause, then a cascade of confused and confusing shouts through her earring that she did her best to ignore. She needed all her attention here right now.

"Jenga?" Percy looked up from what he'd been doing with a puzzled frown that quickly turned to alarm. Turning, Keyleth saw a patch of floor about fifteen feet away turning darker and darker, as though something was suddenly casting a shadow on that single spot. Bracing herself, she stood between it and Percy, and hoped the others would get there in time to do more than watch them die.


	7. Parting

**__** __

_**I wish you well and so I take my leave,  
I pray you know me when we meet again.**  
William Shakespeare_

****

**Twenty One**

The courtyard of Whitestone castle is full, and although the Winter's Crest celebrations are more muted than usual, there are people milling around, eating and drinking, watching the musicians, even if no one seems to feel much like dancing.

Keyleth has stood at this window dozens of times, looking down into the same courtyard, but she needs to do this one last time, to replace the memory that still haunts her dreams. This is better, this is something she can live with. It's still too soon for happy.

She hears the door open behind her, and then hesitant footsteps on the wooden floor. 

"I thought you'd be down there with everyone else," Percy says, standing just out of arm's reach. 

"I will be. I just needed to do this first." Turning from the window, she tries to look at him without flinching, and doesn't entirely succeed.

He gives her a rueful grimace. "How Cassandra got away with just a couple of streaks, I'll never know. Anyone would think I was the one who had the near-death experience." 

The last time Keyleth had been here, she'd noticed the smattering of grey through Percy's brown hair, the lightening at Cassandra's temples. She hadn't expected to come back to such a change, though, as though something had leached all the colour from him. 

"I'm sure you'll look very distinguished eventually," she says, the humour of it only saved because Percy chooses to smile. 

"Let's hope so." He comes a step closer, enough that he can see into the courtyard as well. "Everyone is trying very hard. Doubly so after last year. It's not much, but I hope it's a step forwards."

The last Winter's Crest had been just months after the attack, and rather than force celebrations, Percy and Yennen had turned the occasion into a memorial of sorts, trying to bring the city back from the edge of the dark hole that they'd so nearly fallen into. Compared to that, this year's festival is actually cheerful, with the return of the brightly coloured banners and flags that always stand out so strongly against the sombre greys and whites of the city. It would be easier to enjoy if Keyleth didn't have a flash of memory every time she closes her eyes.

"I'm glad you could be here," Percy says, and it takes an effort for Keyleth to bring herself back to the present. "I suppose it will be a while until you have another Winter's Crest with us."

"I suppose it will." Leaving Zephra had been hard, and Keyleth had thought making Whitestone the first stop on her Aramenté journey would ease some of that pain, as well as laying some ghosts to rest. Now she's here, she is starting to wish she'd written to Percy instead. "Maybe I'll make it back sooner than you think."

Percy is still staring out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back. "I hope so," he says. "It won't be the same without you."

With an effort of will, Keyleth takes a step towards him rather than retreating towards the door, so that they are standing side by side. She bumps her shoulder against his, just a little. 

"I know." She bites her lip, not sure if this is the right time. They should really go down and join the party, and she'll have all tomorrow as well to ask, but somehow, she doesn't want to wait. She takes a deep breath. "I realised as I was coming here that I'd never really said anything about it. About the Aramenté. About your not coming with me, I mean."

That had been more or less all the right words, even if the sentences hadn't come out quite in the order she'd intended.

Percy shrugs. "What is there to say? We've always known this was coming."

"Yes, but you were supposed to come." They haven't spoken of it since last year, everything else seeming far more important. Broaching it now is like stepping onto cracking ice, and Keyleth doesn't yet know if it will break. 

"Nothing's quite what it was," Percy says, still watching the people of Whitestone below. 

"I know, but I was thinking." She hesitates and he turns to her, expectant. "Come with me anyway. For a while at least. The Council is in place, they can look after everything for a while. I know Cassandra will be leaving for Vasselheim soon." She thinks he might have winced, just a little, at that, but she presses on, needing to get the words out while she has the momentum. "I hate the idea of leaving you here on your own. After everything, you deserve some respite as well. Some time away from here, doing something else, would be good for you."

"Cassandra's leaving as soon as Winter's Crest is over," Percy says. "I don't think she can bear to be here any more than you can. Don't worry," he adds, holding up a hand against her protests. "I don't think anyone else noticed."

Keyleth hadn't realised Cassandra would be gone so quickly, and she suspects her surprise is another thing she is doing a poor job of hiding. "I'm sorry," she says, not quite able to meet his gaze any more. "I don't mean-"

"I know." He reaches for her, pulling her into a hug that almost takes her breath away. They are more or less of a height, and she presses her face into his coat, not sure whether she is trying to comfort him or just hide from everything. "I understand, believe me. But I can't come with you. You know that."

She does, of course. "I needed to ask," she says, turning her head to rest more comfortably on his shoulder. 

"Thank you." 

They stand like that for a long moment, clinging to each other. Keyleth leans into Percy as though the whole weight of her destiny is bearing down on her, and he's holding them both up. That doesn't seem fair somehow, when he's the one who lost so much, but he doesn't hesitate, shifting so that he can hold her closer and not seeming to care that she's not ready to let go yet.

Through everything else, a small part of her is angry. At Percy for staying behind. At Cassandra for leaving as well. At the Briarwoods. At her mother, her father, and the rest of the Ashari. At the world in general. If she lets it, the anger will eat her alive, she knows that, but so will denying it. She holds on for a moment longer, letting it wash over and through her, finally letting go of it as she stands up, wiping at her face. Percy produces a handkerchief from one of his pockets and offers it to her.

"I don't expect you to write," he says while she is still pulling herself together. "And I won't know where to send anything for you. So I need you to know that it's fine. Concentrate on the Aramenté, get through it, and let me know when you finish so I can come to Zephra and cheer you along with everyone else."

He's still a little blurry through her tears, but she can hear the sincerity in his voice, and how much the words are costing him. 

"If I get through it," she says, and he shakes his head.

"I have no doubts. Never have." He reaches out to put his hands on her shoulders, warm and heavy and grounding. "And if you need anything at all, remember that you will always have a home here in Whitestone. Whatever you need, if it is in my power, it's yours. I hope you know that."

"I do." She more or less has control of herself now. "What are you going to do?"

"Look after this place. Last year showed me-" He breaks off, shaking his head, and she only has a moment to wonder what he'd been going to say. "I never want to feel that helpless again. We will put this place back together, better than before, and make sure no one else ever has to go through what we did."

There's an intensity to him that she's seen a few times since the attack. A fervour that seems to burn through his sorrow, hot and bright and almost too much. It's how he's survived, she knows. How he's stayed on his feet and helped everyone else to as well. She also knows that eventually, if he's not careful, it will burn him out.

Gently, she puts a hand on his cheek, drawing him back to her. "Just make sure you look after yourself as well. My Aramenté won't be the same without my family to share it."

It was either the wrong thing, or exactly the right thing to say, because he sucks in a sharp breath, pulling his hands away from her shoulders. He looks away for a moment, turning his face from her touch, and she sees his jaw working, the way it always does when he's thinking too hard for her to follow.

After a horrible moment when she's sure she's got it wrong, he nods, still not looking back at her. "You and Cassandra are all the family I have left now. I expect both of you to come back to me in one piece."

"We'll do our best." She knows he wants more than that, if only she could give it to him, but she won't make him empty promises. They are both haunted by the family that isn't there any more. 

"I suppose that will have to be enough." He visibly pulls himself together, pulling at his waistcoat and fastening his coat again. "You don't have to leave just yet, though. So I suggest there is still time to thoroughly over-indulge in last winter's beer, assuming everyone has left us enough to get drunk on."

"That sounds like an excellent plan," Keyleth says, taking his arm as they head towards the door. It will be better if she can't pay too much attention this evening, to stop her marking the last time they dine together, or the last time they share a look or a joke. Better to enjoy the moment, than count down the seconds as they pass.

The goodbyes will come soon enough.

~

Braced for another blood-curdling scream, Keyleth heard instead a rhythmic _thud-thud-thud_ , which she just managed to recognise as the sound of a goliath running up stone steps when the main doors burst open and Grog was outlined against the li+ght. He stopped long enough to put Pike down, pulling out his war hammer at the same time.

"What we fighting?" he asked, looking around the gloomy hall. 

"It's coming," Keyleth said, aware that behind her, Percy had dropped to one knee and was leaning over the pipe he'd brought up with them. She pointed to the patch of shadow where tendrils of darkness were now starting to creep upwards.

Never happy when he couldn't just hit something, Grog glared at the growing cloud of darkness. "What is that?" 

"I think it's a demon. Or maybe a devil. Fiend, perhaps?" When Pike turned to her, all Keyleth could do was shrug. "We didn't exactly stop to ask."

"Okay." Pike didn't have her mace, but she was still in her armour and she put one hand to the symbol of Sarenrae that always hung around her neck. "Bad guy. Got it." 

The cloud was starting to come together as it had in the workshop, a dark shape larger even than Grog, surrounded by swirling smoke. There was definitely something solid inside, but it was impossible to make out any details.

"Are we just going to stand here and watch?" Grog asked, not waiting for an answer as he took three huge steps towards the monster and swung his hammer. It plunged into the darkness before hitting something, Grog's hands disappearing into the smoke. Despite Keyleth's instinctive panic, he drew back without difficulty and struck again, this time trying to sweep upwards into where the thing's head should be. The sound of contact was unmistakeable, and whatever was inside gave a grunt of pain. For a second, Keyleth could see the shadow inside the shadow, a darker stretch of arm that began lifting upwards to strike at Grog.

Before it could reach him, there was another thud, softer this time, closely followed by a second. The shadows pulled back for a moment, forming themselves into a definite shape. There was just time to make out a huge, broad-shouldered form with taloned hands before the darkness swirled and the creature spun around. As it did, Vax jumped from its back and dove away, racing back to the doorway to the basement.

"Someone want to tell me what we're killing here?" he called, pressing himself against the doorjamb. 

"I think it's a shadow fiend," Pike called, drawing the creature's attention to her. "They hate the light. Sucks to be them." She reached out with one gauntleted, glowing hand, extending her fingers wide before drawing them into a tight fist. As she slammed her hand down, dropping to one knee with the momentum, a bolt shot from the ceiling above the fiend, bright golden light enveloping it for a second. 

Keyleth turned her head away, trying not to let it blind her. On the floor behind her, Percy was still crouched down, still assembling whatever it was he'd brought with them. 

"Its name is Orthax," he shouted, slotting something into place with an audible click. "It's…" He faltered a little, looking up at Keyleth and apparently realising there was no good way to end that sentence. "It's a long story," he said.

"No kidding." Keyleth was already turning back around, readying her spell when Orthax started to move, shoving away from Grog and turning its head slowly until it found Percy on the floor behind her. It moved towards him, the shadows gliding across the floor, tendrils of smoke licking up the monster's body like black flames. 

_"Percival."_ The word wasn't much more than a low growl, a barely audible rumble that Keyleth felt as much as heard. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Percy freeze, still with his eyes fixed on her, as though he didn't dare look anywhere else. _"We made an agreement, Percival. We can still finalise our bargain."_

"This isn't what I wanted." Still looking at her, Percy stood up, the metal pipe half-cradled in his arms. There was something attached to one end that Keyleth couldn't quite see, and she didn't want to take her attention off Orthax enough to look properly. "This was never what I wanted."

_"Whatever you want, I can give you."_

"Oh yes, that's entirely trustworthy," Keyleth said, sounding braver than she felt. She wanted to step back as it approached, but Percy seemed intent on standing his ground, and there was no way she was going to leave him now. She was braced to throw them both out of the way, when instead, the points of two curving horns rose out the smoke, tipping backwards as the monster lifted its head.

Orthax screamed. It was the same sound as in the workshop, cutting through Keyleth's mind with a searing pain that blinded her for a moment. She clutched at her temples, trying to hang onto her sanity as a white heat seemed to consume and surround her. For a second, she wanted to act, to strike out against this feeling that her brain was being gripped in a vice. Then the pressure released, the urge subsided and she was winded and blinking back tears as she forced her eyes to focus again. 

Across the hall, she heard a yell and a metallic clang, Pike's voice calling Grog's name in surprise, and him answering her, sounding wounded and confused.

A hand touched her arm, and she turned to see Percy, tears running down his own face, looking at her in questioning concern. She nodded, managing with two deep breaths to get steady on her feet. Just as she was feeling she could see straight again, a shadow fell over them. It was a normal shadow this time, cast by the huge monster that was looming over them, blocking the light of the lamps. This close, Keyleth could see that there was still a yellow glow around its outline from Pike's bolt of energy, which only seemed to make the darkness deeper. Percy's hand tightened on her arm.

Before either of them could speak, there was a _whoosh-thud-thud_ from above them, and Orthax reeled back, two arrows suddenly sprouting from where Keyleth guessed its shoulder would be. She glanced up and over her shoulder, getting a glimpse of a figure ducking back behind the bannisters of the balcony.

In front of them, Orthax pulled the arrows free, throwing them across the room, and turning its attention back to Percy. 

_"It's not too late, Percival."_ It was close enough now that Keyleth could make out more details of Orthax within the smoke. She could see a long, pointed face like the skull of a monstrous bird, and leathery hide along its fingers as it stretched out one hand towards them, not to strike, but to beckon. _"I'm still prepared to complete our bargain. Look at what I've already given you."_

With his hand on her arm, Keyleth could feel Percy swaying, and she wasn't about to let this thing get its talons in him again, literally or any other way. She'd already prepared to cast the spell, and finishing it took almost no time as she thrust her hand forwards, a sunbeam arcing from her fingers and catching Orthax full in the face.

As with the daylight in the workshop, the effect was almost blinding on Keyleth as well, and she had to half-turn her head away from the light. Orthax had brought both hands to its face, clawing at its eyes and even dazzled as she was, Keyleth could see its true body as the smoke dissipated, the huge shoulders and bird-skull face seeming truly monstrous in the strange brilliance of the sunbeam. 

Percy took a step back, ducking under its wild swing, and pulling Keyleth with him. "I think you hurt it," he said, drawing her out of the creature's reach.

"Or made it really, really angry," she said. "Are you okay?"

"Do you really want me to answer that now?" 

That was a fair question. Keyleth shook her head, turning back just in time to see Grog come running up behind the creature, his hammer raised above his head. For a second, Keyleth wasn't entirely sure whether she was more frightened of Orthax or Grog in his full fury, foam frothing from the corner of his mouth and murder in his face.

The blows would have crushed the skull of any normal creature, and even Orthax seemed staggered by them, bending almost double as the hammer caught it across the back of its head. The next two blows were just as hard, although not enough to fell it. 

Roaring in pain and anger, Orthax started to turn to Grog when there was a flicker of movement in front of Keyleth, almost too fast for her to see. Seeming as small as Pike in comparison to the demon, Vax ducked low, stabbing into the smoke still swirling around its legs rather than up into the tougher hide of the monster's back. It twisted, back arching and bringing one huge hand down to swipe at Vax as he sprinted away.

The blow caught Vax across his shoulders, sending him into a tumble along the floor of the hall. Keyleth's breath caught in her throat for a second, until he rolled to his feet, still moving at that unnatural speed into the shadows of the main doorway. He turned to her and even under the hood of his cloak, she could see the grim expression on his face.

"Guys, are we killing something?" Scanlan came into the hall, skidded to a halt and stared up at Orthax from a safe distance. "Ooh, it's a big something as well." He narrowed his eyes for a second, pointing one finger at Orthax, and as she knew what was coming, Keyleth had already turned away to protect her eyes when the lightning shot past her. It hit Orthax square in the chest and passed through harmlessly, sending a cloud of dust down from the panelled wall on the other side.

From the balcony above, Keyleth heard Vex swear. 

"That went well." Keeping his distance, Scanlan looked around at the others. "Anyone else got any better ideas?"

"I think so," Pike said, lifting her hand again. This time, it wasn't just the symbol of Sarenrae that glowed, it was her whole armour, bathing her in a golden light that glinted off her hair and face, making her look almost angelic. There was nothing serene about the way she looked over at Orthax, her face creased with concentration as she lifted her hand again.

Sensing the power of the spell, Keyleth reached out and grabbed Percy by the shoulders, pulling him down so that they were both turned away when the blast hit. Even through her closed eyes, it was searingly bright, and Keyleth curled protectively over Percy, trying to shield him with her body. 

Orthax tried to scream, but it was more like a desperate cry, and when Keyleth dared to look up, there were grey wisps rising from its shoulders and back, the smoke of Pike's divine blast so different to the unnatural cloud of darkness still clinging to its lower half. Percy pulled away from her, taking half a step back and nearly stumbling.

The movement drew Orthax's attention, and the bird-skull face swung around, the empty eyes seeming to focus on Percy again. Percy froze, and for a moment, Keyleth thought the monster had cast something on him to hold him in place. She heard it draw in a low, rasping breath to speak, only to be cut off by three arrows this time, all slamming into the centre of its chest, one of them catching fire as it hit.

Everything seemed to pause for a moment, as they all watched to see if the monster would fall. It didn't, but there was something desperate about the way Orthax brushed the arrows away this time, and it staggered a little as it closed on Percy, those dark sockets still fixed on his face.

 _"You asked for my help, and this is how you repay me?"_ it rasped, taloned hands closing into fists. _"I could have given you everything you wanted. Strength. Revenge."_ It drew in another breath with obvious effort, taking another step and blocking Keyleth's view of Percy. _"Your family."_ It let that hang in the air for a long moment, everything still caught in that frozen moment. _"No more. You made your choice."_

"What?"

The word hadn't been much more than a whisper, but it made Keyleth's blood run cold for a second before warmth rushed back in, anger making her feel as though her spirit had caught fire. Percy would have been cautious over making a deal for revenge, even if he'd been foolish enough to make the deal in the first place. But for his family, who knew what he'd do. What would any of them do to have their families back?

With a wordless cry, Keyleth lifted her hands again, blasting Orthax with the sunbeam and pouring all of her anger into the spell. Until she started, she hadn't realised just how much of her fear had turned to anger at this thing that had preyed on Percy's grief. At Percy for being so stupid. At the Briarwoods for ruining everything. At herself for leaving him behind. At everything that had forced them to this point, from her Aramenté to the dragons, to her own sense of responsibility that made her feel as though everything, _everything_ that had happened was her fault. It wasn't, she knew, any more than it was Orthax's, but it was the thing in front of her right now, and her anger had nowhere else to go.

It was only when the spell petered out that Keyleth realised she was shouting, tears running down her face as the light died away from her fingertips. Orthax was still standing, although its head was hanging low and there was more grey smoke than black swirling around it now. Behind her, she heard Grog stage-whisper something and Pike shush him, although she couldn't make out the words. The force of the spell had pushed Orthax away from her a little, and she could see Percy again, half-lying on the floor, the strange metal pipe now tilted upwards, one end braced against his shoulder, and she felt like an idiot for not realising what it was before.

He looked over, something like an apology on his face. Then he turned back to Orthax, lifted the gun and fired.

The noise was deafening, as loud as the monster's screams had been, and the cloud of smoke that rose from the gun obscured the whole of Percy's head and shoulders for a moment. The force of the blast knocked him flat on his back, and Keyleth thought it might actually have knocked him out until she heard him cough and groan from within the smoke. Orthax had been knocked back a few steps as well, and while it didn't seem to have been much hurt by the shot, from the way it was moving, its hunched shoulders and the slow sway of its head, it looked wary, as though surprised that Percy would fight back.

 _"We had a deal,"_ it whispered, the low growl as much felt as heard, and the words seem to jolt everyone out of their stupor. Percy rolled over, away from his gun, still coughing and apparently not able to get back to his feet yet. Behind Orthax, Grog took two huge steps and brought his hammer down towards the creature's back again, hitting hard with one swing but missing with the second, and taking a taloned hand to the face when he tried to back away. Orthax's own swings seemed wilder, more panicked, as though it had finally realised that taking on a group of experienced adventurers was a rather different prospect to one angry young man. 

Keyleth could see Vax and Pike readying themselves, and there was a growl from the balcony above that suggested Trinket had finally caught up with the rest of them. Before anyone could move, Percy got his hands underneath him, pushing himself to his feet and grabbing for the long gun.

"Stop," he said, voice a little hoarse. Around her, Keyleth could feel everyone holding back, waiting to see what was going to happen, and she forced herself not to hold her breath as well.

He used the gun as a crutch to steady himself for a moment, looking up at Orthax. "What you said, about bringing back my family? That's what it's going to be like, isn't it? There's always going to be one more thing. You're always going to offer more, and there's always going to be a higher price, until I have nothing left. I thought it would be worth it." He glanced over at Keyleth, holding her gaze for a second before turning back. "But it isn't. There is no deal. I'm not going to finish that gun. Ever. It's over." Lifting the gun he'd been leaning on, he tossed it to the ground where it skidded the few feet to Orthax's feet.

For a confused second, nobody moved, and the only sound was the metal of the gun barrel rocking back and forth on the wooden floor. Before Keyleth could do anything, or even think of anything she could do, Orthax raised one of its huge, clawed hands and brought it up into Percy's body. She hadn't realised it was within reach of him, or she might have been ready sooner, but it was only as Percy was thrown ten feet across the hallway that she reacted. Even as she cast, she knew this would be the last of her energy, and she was determined to make it count.

Apparently the others had the same thought, because everything seemed to happen at once. Arrows suddenly sprouted from Orthax's shoulder and throat, barely missing Vax who appeared out of nowhere to thrust his daggers up into the monster's belly. As it went to brush him aside as it had Percy, there was a clap of thunder and it went reeling backwards instead, pushed by a wave of magic from Scanlan, almost into Grog's arms.

Keyleth's sunbeam hit at the same moment as Grog's hammer, driving Orthax down to the ground at last. As Grog raised the hammer again, surely for a final blow, Keyleth had a flash of fear for what might happen to Percy if this thing was destroyed. Before she could say anything, though, Grog brought the hammer down, smashing into the bird-skull face and through it, so that Keyleth heard the splintering of floorboards below. The sound echoed around the hall for a moment, followed by a wisp of noise like a curtain being drawn back too quickly, as Orthax's body melted into smoke. After another second, the smoke began to drift away, disappearing into the shadows of the hall. 

There was a moment of silence as the floor cleared, everyone turning and staring into the darkness, then at each other, the sudden lack of noise almost deafening.

The silence was broken by the sound of clanking footsteps, and Keyleth joined Pike in running over to where Percy had fallen face-down on the floor, hearing Vex and Trinket start to descend from the balcony as well. As she started across the hall, there was a loud crash, and she turned to see that Grog was smashing into the long gun as well, breaking it into pieces. When he saw her looking, he shrugged.

"Just making sure."

Pike had already reached Percy and was bending over him, one hand glowing gently as she touched his back. To Keyleth's relief, Percy groaned, shifting a little, although only to press his face into the floorboards. 

Behind her, Keyleth could hear Scanlan and Grog picking through the pieces of the gun, and Vex and Vax talking in hushed voices. She could even hear Trinket's low growls and the scratch of his claws on the wood. But it was all just background noise. 

Dropping to her knees, she pulled at Percy's shoulders, helping him roll over and cradling his head in her lap. It was better to focus on that than the blood covering his stomach or the terrible rip through the centre of his shirt. Pike was already pressing her hand against him again, the healing magic bringing some colour to his face, which had been deathly pale. Sitting here like this, on a cold floor trying to make sure he didn't slip away from her, was horribly familiar, and Keyleth forced her mind to stay in the present, even as the past tried to force its way into her mind.

That must have occurred to Percy as well, because he shook his head, trying to pull away as she started to whisper the words of a healing spell of her own. 

"We have to stop meeting like this," he mumbled, jolting a laugh out of her before she could stop herself. With hers and Pike's help, he sat up, finally opening his eyes and looking around the hall, a mixture of bewilderment and guilt on his face. 

"Are you okay?" Pike asked, leaning down a little so she could look him in the eyes. 

Percy didn't try to meet her gaze, staring over to where Scanlan was gathering up the pieces of the gun. "Ah," he said, his voice a little faint. "I suppose that couldn't be helped."

Pike looked to Keyleth for an answer instead, and Keyleth shrugged. "I think he'll be okay," she said. A little wearily, she got to her feet and held out a hand to Percy, who still couldn't quite look at her as he took it.

"I think," he said, taking in the curious faces that were turned in his direction, and finally, _finally_ turning to Keyleth, "I have a lot of apologising to do." 

As much as she wanted to be angry still, at this point, Keyleth mostly felt tired, her energy spent. Whatever she might have said in the heat of the moment, the words just wouldn't come any more. So instead she just held out her hand to Percy, who hesitated. 

"I think the apologies should start here," he said, drawing back a little.

"Maybe." Even to her own ears, Keyleth sounded exhausted. "But I'm okay with starting them later." Not letting him retreat any further, she stepped in close and pulled him into a hug. 

He stiffened, and she held on tighter, not letting him free, and not loosening her grip until he gave in, putting his own arms around her waist and taking a deep breath at last.

Lifting her head a little, Keyleth saw the rest of her friends exchange a look, then slowly file out of the hall, Vax pausing long enough to catch her eye and give her an encouraging nod before trailing after his sister.

Keyleth shut her eyes again and held on, refusing to be embarrassed and not letting Percy pull away for a long time. And for the first time since they'd arrived in Whitestone, she could actually tell herself that it was going to be okay.


	8. Epilogue: Whitestone

**__** __

_**What is a friend? A single soul dwelling in two bodies.**  
Aristotle_

****

**The morning after**

The whole castle reeks of smoke, the smell clinging to Keyleth's hair and clothes and filling the small room. The stone wall is cold against her back, grounding and reassuring after the last few hours of chaos. Beside her, Percy has his eyes closed and his head tipped back, and she'd think he was asleep, except that the hand clasped in both of hers keeps twitching reflexively, as though for reassurance that she's still here.

They both stir when the door opens, and Keyleth releases Percy to jump to her feet, all but throwing herself into her father's arms. For a moment, she buries her face in his shoulder and just lets herself breathe. It's selfish, she knows, these few seconds of comfort where she is safe and she can pretend nothing has happened.

It can't last, and he takes her shoulders gently, pulling her back to look at her. "Are you okay?"

She can't speak, but she nods, even though it's an obvious lie. He smiles and looks past her. "And him?"

"I'm awake."

Keyleth turns in time to see Percy open his eyes, head still back against the wall.

"There's no change," her father says. "Our healers are all spent, and Cassandra will live."

"But no one else will." The words are hollow, emotionless, and Percy's eyes are dry. "Just me and her."

"I fear so. We have sent to Terra and Pyrah for more help, but this was more than simple killing."

"She was a necromancer. Whatever she was doing, it was intended to be permanent." Percy waves away the question that must have been on Keyleth's face, sitting up and staring ahead blankly. "Her husband was a vampire. I'm sure he didn't get that way by accident. And I suppose it could be worse. They could be undead."

She shivers, not just from the thought, but from Percy's apparent detachment, the coldness in his voice.

"Even so, we will not give up on them." her father says, moving towards Percy and Keyleth realises she had been leaning into the hand that was still on her shoulder. WIthout it, she sways in place, her mind still racing. Her breath catches when Percy shakes his head and looks up at her father properly for the first time.

"No, not if there is any risk at all that they might come back…" he searches for the word and finally comes up with, "...wrong. They would not want that. I don't want that."

Whatever her father sees in Percy's face, it's enough to make him nod and step away again. "I understand. Cassandra will not awaken for some time, but you can go and see her if you want. She is in her room." Her father looks towards her, and Keyleth nods her understanding at the command in his eyes.

Once he has left, Percy takes three deep breaths, and then holds out his hand to her. "I need to see Cassandra," he says, and she helps him up. They are both sore, and he is still limping a little, but they make it down to the residential wing. Apart from the smell of smoke, it seems to have been left alone, and Keyleth is hit with a sense of wrongness, that this place should seem just the same as always, when the rest of the world has been turned on its head.

Inside, an older woman is sitting by Cassandra's bed, her head nodding gently. She jumps up when they come in, and Percy waves her back down.

"It's fine, Angharad. How is she?"

The nurse's face is puffy, as Keyleth suspects her own must be, but there is hope in her expression when she looks across at the bed. "The healers have done all they can, and they say she will live. She just needs to sleep for a while." Reaching out, she smooths an invisible wrinkle in the sheets, looking from Cassandra to Percy and back again. "And you, sir. Are you-"

"I'm fine." Percy takes a few difficult steps forwards, putting one hand on Angharad's shoulder and the other on the bed where Cassandra's hand is outlined under the covers. As she moves to the end of the bed, Keyleth is relieved to see that despite everyone's caution, Cassandra really does look like she is just sleeping. There is colour in the face that Keyleth had last seen drenched in blood, and her expression is peaceful.

Percy's own expression has softened a little since they entered the room, and while he doesn't smile, there is something gentle in his voice as he says, "Angharad, please could you give us a few minutes?"

"Of course." She takes his hand as she stands, trying to draw it closer, but Percy winces, pulling her hand to him instead, and bending his head to kiss her knuckles lightly.

"Thank you," he says, and releases her, turning away.

Keyleth understands why, because the sorrow that floods into Angharad's face as she gathers herself and starts for the door threatens to crack Keyleth's own resolve.

"She will live," Keyleth says softly as the door closes, and Percy nods.

"I know." He still has his hand on Cassandra's hidden one. "I just don't know how I'm going to tell her that everyone else is dead."

Keyleth bites her lip to stop the words spilling out. You're alive too. Because she doesn't think Percy's ready to hear that right now. Instead, she watches as he bends stiffly again, kissing his sister on the forehead, and then walks around to the window. His back is to her as he stares down into the courtyard, and Keyleth forces herself not to fuss with the bedsheets just for something to do.

There is a long silence, which she knows she should break, she just doesn't know how. In it, she hears echoes of the dinner, of voices laughing and joking beforehand, of courtly conversation over the meal, and hers and Percy's whispers while others were exchanging diplomatic pleasantries. The memory of the crack of magic that broke the genteel atmosphere still makes her flinch, and she half-lifts her hands to her ears against the deafening sound that is only in her head. Everything is now screams and cries, and her father's shouts, Percy's grunt of pain as something impossibly powerful hit him, bearing him to the ground. The memory of her own scream surprises her, because it hadn't seemed so loud at the time, but for a second it's all she can hear, until it's blasted away by a second pulse of magical energy.

After that, everything is something of a blur. She hears both Percy and her father calling her name, and she knows she dropped to her knees, grabbing Percy by the shoulders and reacting without thinking, throwing up a bank of fog around them while she tried to heal him at the same time. There was no way that could work, but he opened his eyes enough to look up at her in panic before the floor caved in below them. She can still hear it, the sound of stone shifting and breaking around them, moving apart impossibly so that the two of them plunged into the cellar beneath, hitting the floor with bruising force. It was only when the ceiling closed up again above them that she realised someone had done that on purpose to get them out of the fray.

She remembers the echo of their breathing in the dark, the sound of water trickling down the walls of the cellar, the muffled thumps and thuds from above them. Percy had tried to get up, to push past her, but she'd held onto him, gripping him so hard around the shoulders that he cried out in pain again.

"My family is up there." With his face so close to hers, she could feel his ragged breathing against her cheek.

"So is mine, and they just saved our lives. I am not letting you throw that away."

He'd struggled against her, managing to push her off, but whatever he'd been hit with had been hard enough that he only got two steps before his knees had given out again. This time, when she'd reached him, she'd been able to concentrate enough to push actual healing magic into him, even as his eyes rolled back in his head and his body went limp. Trying to keep as much of him from the damp floor as possible, Keyleth had pulled him further into her lap, and forced herself to concentrate on the sound of his breathing, each laboured inhale and exhale a reminder that they were, somehow still alive. It was better than thinking about what was happening above them.

The strange echoing when it had all fallen silent is much like the silence in this room, and she realises that Percy must have said her name several times already.

"Sorry," she says, wiping at her eyes and looking around for him. He's still standing at the window, but facing her now.

He shakes his head. "It's fine. I keep getting lost in it myself." It takes him obvious effort to straighten up, and come back to take the chair Angharad had been sitting in. "It all seems slower in my memory, as though I should have had time to do something."

"I know." Somehow, Percy had managed to throw both of them under the table, the bolt that should have killed him grazing his back instead. The memory replays itself again and again, and Keyleth realises that without him, she wouldn't have seen it coming. "Thank you, by the way," she says, coming around to kneel next to his chair. "For saving my life."

He blinks at that, confused, then shakes his head. "And you for mine." He reaches for her, pulling her close, and they sit for a long time with her head in his lap, their hands clasped together.

A light knock and the creak of the door stir them, and Keyleth lifts her head enough to see Keeper Yennen coming into the room, leaning heavily on a large staff. Percy turns enough to greet him, but doesn't attempt to get up, which is probably just as well.

Yennen looks them both over for a long moment, as though satisfying himself that they are alive and in one piece. "My Lord," he begins, and Keyleth feels Percy flinch. It must have been visible from across the room, because Yennen sighs, leans his staff against the wall and looks around for something to sit on. Between them, he and Keyleth pull a small stool over to the bed for him, then Keyleth settles down on the floor again, Percy's hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Percival. I didn't think."

"It's fine. I understand." From the grip on her shoulder, understanding is not the same as accepting, but Percy's voice is calm and controlled. "How are things in the town?"

"All is calm for now. We will wait for the morning to start assessing damage, and we won't have a full count of casualties until then, but we estimate perhaps a hundred and fifty people were killed. The few magical healers we have concentrated on those who had a chance of survival. Beyond that, there was little we could do."

"Of course."

Shifting a little, Yennen says, "Of your family, we agree with you that nothing should be done. We could send to Westruun and Wildmount for more clerics, but I believe that would be unwise. Whatever Delilah Briarwood used, it was powerful necromantic magic, and there is every chance that attempting to return them to the living would trigger something worse."

Keyleth has seen people revived by clerics before, even after considerable time has passed. That Yennen is suggesting not even to make the attempt must mean that the Briarwoods were even worse than she had imagined. Unease crawls up her spine, making her shiver, not just from Yennen's words but his serious demeanour, the earnestness in his voice.

"I agree," Percy says, and she can hear how much it is costing him. "What has been done cannot be undone. And if you do have any life-giving magic, we should not be at the front of the queue." He takes a deep breath and lets it go in what might have been a sigh.

"Some of the people have been asking what happened here," Yennen says slowly. "We have told them as best we can, but they are frightened. They are asking for you."

"Not specifically, I assume." The dry humour in Percy's voice surprises Keyleth, and she looks up over her shoulder at him, seeing the flat line of his mouth and the emptiness still in his eyes. Whatever she'd been going to say dies back again, and she lifts her hand to his instead. He gives her a grateful glance, then lifts his eyes to Yennen. "I will come as soon as I can. Thank you, Yennen."

It's as gentle a dismissal as Keyleth has ever heard, but it's definitely a dismissal. Yennen must hear it too, because he nods and gets to his feet, retrieving his staff before turning back to Percy.

"I'm so sorry, Percival. For everything."

They sit in silence for a while longer, and Keyleth can hear every breath Cassandra takes, wondering if it is as comforting to Percy as it is to her. Eventually, she hears Percy stir in the chair above her.

"Keyleth," he says, waiting for her to look at him before going on. "Please would you help me up?"

"Of course." She is a little sore and cold from the stone floor, but she makes it to her feet. Percy is sitting so stiffly, it can't all be from his injuries. "Where are we going?

"I need to go down into Whitestone, to see how things are down there. Would you come with me? Please?"

More than a little surprised, Keyleth looks back over to the bed, where Cassandra sleeps on, oblivious to the world. "Don't you want to be here?"

"Yes. But I have to go down there." He shakes his head when she frowns at him. "Look out of the window, into the courtyard."

Crossing the room, Keyleth looks down into the gloom of dusk. She'd thought the shouts outside were the castle guard, maybe some of her own people getting things organised again. Instead, she is looking down on rows of bodies being carefully laid out, clerics and soldiers moving between them straightening clothing and covering those that need it in cloaks and sheets. Families are starting to trickle in, clinging to each other, fearing the worst.

"The city is in mourning, Keyleth. My city. They need to know that it will still stand."

Normally, Percy's arrogance is annoying or frustrating; this seems like insanity. "Do you really think that walking out there is going to make it okay? That you're somehow going to make it alright for them?"

"Nothing can make this okay." He's trying to sound angry, but he just sounds tired. "And it's not about me. It's never been about us."

"Then what is it about?"

"Whitestone. Our job, our purpose, is to be Whitestone for them. We're not much use for anything else, really. We're here so that even when everything is awful, in the darkest of times, someone tells them that they are not forgotten, and that Whitestone will go on regardless."

"And what about your own family? What about Cassandra?"

"I can't do anything for her but watch her sleep right now. And anyway, she's not likely to wake before tomorrow. Please, Keyleth." He looks up at her, and for the first time since they came down here, she can see the cracks in his facade. "I don't know if I can do this without falling over, and if I fall now, I don't know if I will get up again."

She doesn't understand, and she knows she probably never will. Nobility is different amongst the Ashari, and while she loves Percy like a brother, it's something she's never really been entirely comfortable with. But she knows the people down in the courtyard need hope right now, and if he thinks he can give it to them, she's not going to argue with that.

She holds out her hands for him to pull himself up, switching her support to his side as he stands. He sways into her alarmingly, and she sets her feet, shifting so that he can lean against her as he steadies himself. Their foreheads touch, and she presses against him, just for a moment.

"I won't let you fall," she says, and they take their first, unsteady steps toward the door together.

~

If there was something to be said for these cold, crisp mornings, it was that the sunrises were spectacular. Keyleth had come prepared this time, with a thick wool blanket that she'd found in a chest in her room and which was keeping out the worst of the cold. The East Tower had the best view of the sunrise over the mountains, and had the added advantage of not having a cannon on it.

After a little while, Percy settled in beside her, handing over a mug of something hot, the tendrils of steam rising up into the cold air. He pulled half of the blanket over himself and they sat in silence for a while, watching the light creep over the peaks of the mountains, pinks and yellows creeping down their slopes as the sky gradually grew lighter. From the forest below, the first birds began a tentative song, barely loud enough to be heard yet.

Keyleth's drink was cold by the time she remembered it again, and she set the cup aside, wrapping her arms around her knees. It was snug inside the blanket, but she knew they'd have to move eventually.

As though hearing her thoughts, Percy tipped his head back against the wall. "There's always so much to be done," he said, and she didn't have to ask what he meant. She'd missed this so much, having someone put words around her half-formed feelings.

"There is. And it always feels like a lot of it has to be done by us."

"By you." Percy rolled his head to the side so he could look at her. "I think I've done more than enough, don't you?"

"Not really." He'd meant it jokingly, but Keyleth wasn't about to let him get away with it. "In fact, not having enough to do might have been part of the problem. I don't think having a whole castle to sit and brood in did you much good, do you?"

He blew out a long breath. "We're actually going to talk about this, then?" When she didn't answer, he turned his head back to stare out at the mountains. "I don't have any excuses, except poor judgement. And before you say anything, it wasn't your fault, any more than it was Cassandra's. Lots of people in Whitestone, and everywhere else for that matter, lost a lot more than I did." He shifted, settling in a little closer to her, his shoulder pressing against hers. "I think I was mostly angry. It felt like everyone else got to do exactly what they wanted, and here I was. Trapped. You had your Aramenté, Cassandra found her calling and went off to Vasselheim, and I was stuck here alone."

"So you decided to hunt them down all by yourself? Overreact, much?" Keyleth had recognised Percy's 'lecture' tone, and knew that if she didn't keep him on track, he'd talk around the subject until they ran out of time with the important things still unsaid.

"Probably." He huffed something close to a laugh, soft and self-deprecating. "Grief does strange things to you, I suppose. I spent a long time being very angry with them all for dying, you know. Well. I know you know." Moving again, as though he couldn't sit still and talk at the same time, he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. He was warm enough that she didn't complain. "And when it felt like I could do something about it, I felt better."

"And now?"

"I don't know." He hesitated, and she let the silence hang, almost able to hear the gears in his head turning. "I think that might be an improvement."

"Than making a deal with a vengeance demon? Probably."

"You're never going to let it go, are you?"

It was such a ridiculous statement for someone who'd been half-dead not twenty-four hours ago, that Keyleth sat up and turned to him, the chill air creeping in as she shrugged off the blanket. 

"Until I'm sure that you're not going to run off on some crazed and probably suicidal revenge mission while my back is turned? No, no I'm not."

"That's fair." 

Keyleth sat back down, pulling the blanket up before she could start shivering, and settling against Percy's shoulder again. "I'd ask you to come with us, but I think you're going to say no."

"I think have a lot to do here first, don't you? The idea was to stay and do the right thing by the people of Whitestone. Not set things up and leave them without anyone in charge. Again. Even if they didn't know that's what I was planning, they still deserve better. Anyway, you'll need a headquarters until this is all over, and it sounds like there's going to be a lot of interesting people here for a while. I'll be fine. Although I do have some things for you."

They untangled themselves from each other and the blanket, and Percy reached into an inside pocket. 

"This is for Cassandra. It's… Well. It's an explanation. Maybe something of a confession. But it's also suggesting that if Vox Machina want a de Rolo with them, they could do a lot worse than a Paladin of Pelor, if you'll have her."

The letter was on heavy, cream-coloured paper, and was almost as thick as Keyleth's little finger. Even then, she didn't doubt that Cassandra was going to have an awful lot of questions for her. She was distracted by the thought, so that it took her a moment to realise that Percy was holding something else out to her. It was only when it glinted in the early morning light that she realised what it was.

"You don't have to take it back," he said. "I mean, I'd understand if you didn't. Under the circumstances. But I wanted you to have it again."

He'd fixed the clasp, she could tell, rather than replacing the whole chain. Not quite knowing what to say, she turned around instead, lifting her hair so that he could put the necklace on for her. He fastened it, leaning forwards to rest his head against her for a long moment.

"Thank you." It wasn't much more than a whisper, spoken into her shoulder, felt as much as heard.

If they both started apologising again, Keyleth wasn't sure they'd ever stop. So she just shifted a little, leaning back against him and letting him wrap his arms around her. It felt right and familiar, and so much like home that for the first time in days, she felt she could face the future with a clear head.

They'd have to go down for breakfast eventually. Allura had sent word that she'd arrive tomorrow, and they'd need to leave for Vasselheim soon after that. There was so much to be done, and so little time to do it in. They'd need allies and weapons and advice, and this was going to be like nothing they'd ever done before. 

And for now, Keyleth decided, she was going to spend some time with her best friend, listening to the birds singing the dawn chorus, and watching the sun rise over the Alabaster Sierras.

 

**__** __

_**True friendship is a plant of slow growth, and must undergo and withstand the shocks of adversity, before it is entitled to the appellation.**  
George Washington_

**Author's Note:**

> As is my wont, I put together a playlist for writing to, which you can find on Spotify [here.](https://open.spotify.com/user/jadesfire2808/playlist/0beXslnvhLVbgi5XNcjCMN%20)


End file.
